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Old  Historic  Landmarks 


OF 


VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND 


DESCRIRHI)  IN 


A    HAND-BOOK    FOR    THH    TOURIST 


OVEK  THE 


WASHINGTON,    ALEXANDRIA     AND     MOUNT    VERNON 

ELECTRIC    RAILWAY. 


BY 


W.     H.     SNOW  DEN,     ^  •  ^i^  — 

or   ANDALUSIA,    VA. 

ILLUSTRATED.  cAA^atx^^a^x^^-^^^^i 


PH  IL  A  DELPHIA  : 

PRINTED  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 

1  8  9  4. 


Copyright,  1894. 

HY 
WlLUAM    II.   SNOVVDEN. 


V6'. 


V. 


TO  THE  READER. 


THIS  hand-book  was  prepared  especially  for  tourists  over  the  New 
Electric  Railway  from  the  National  Capital,  l)y  way  of  Alex- 
andria, to  Mount  Vernon.  In  it  will  be  found  not  only  a  summary 
of  fhe  life,  services,  and  character  of  General  Washington,  and  a 
description  of  his  home,  his  farms,  and  his  farming  operations,  and 
the  changes  which  have  been  incident  to  his  land  estate  since  his  pass- 
ing away,  but  also  descriptions  of  numerous  other  outlying  historic 
landmarks  on  both  shores  of  the  Potomac.  The  writer  trusts  that 
the  book,  hastily  prepared  in  brief  intervals  of  pressing  duties,  may 
jirove  an  accei)tal)le  companion  to  all  strangers  wayfaring  among  the 
many  interesting  historic  points  which  will  be  opened  to  them  by  this 
convenient  and  delightful  route  of  travel  to  the  home  and  tomb  of 
^     the  venerated  Washington. 

Q.         To  Dr.  J.  M.  Toner,  of  Washington  City,  the  successful  editor  and 

h     publisher  of  Washington  journals,  diaries,  and  other  papers  ;   to  Mr. 

(V^     Hubert  Snowden,  of  the  Alexandria  Gazette ;  Mr.  H.  Harrison  Dodge, 

the  courteous  and  capable  superintendent  of  Mount  Vernon  ;   Mr.  J. 

R.  C.  Lewis,  of  Berryville,  Virginia  ;  Mr.  William  F.  Carne,  Mr.  Law- 

X    rence  Washington,  Mrs.  Dr.  William  Powell,  and  Miss  Mary  Lloyd, 

^    of  Alexandria ;    Rev.   M.   L.   Poffenberg,   of  Broad   Creek   Church  ; 

xsA     Mi.ss  Whittingham,    of  Baltimore,  and  others,   the  writer  hereby  ac- 

,■     knowledges  his  obligations  for  valuable  assistance.     Should  any  his- 

'  >      toric  reader  find  in  the  book  inaccuracies,  or  wish  to  suggest  additions 

of    new  facts  pertaining  to  any  of    the  "landmarks,"  they  will  be 

gratefully  received  for  a  subsequent  edition. 

W.  H.  S. 
r^ .         Andalusia, 
-»  Arcturus,  p.  O., 

Fairfax  Co.,  Va. 


t 


1 


<1y 


SOME 

OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

OF 

VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


ALEXANDRIA,    VIRGINIA. 

SEVEN  miles  below  the  National  Capital,  on  the  opposite  shore  of 
the  Potomac  River,  stands  the  city  of  Alexandria,  with  a  popula- 
tion of  eighteen  thousand,  and  a  history  dating  back  to  the  year  1748, 
when  Thomas,  Lord  Fairfax,  Lawrence  Washington,  and  their  associ- 
ates, as  incorporators  by  authority  of  the  General  Assembly  of  Virginia, 
organized   the  beginning  of  its  municipal  government.       Fifty  years 
before   that   time   not  a  single  white   man  had   permanent  residence 
there,  and  only  a  few  years  before,   1669,  the  whole  of  the  domain 
from  Great   Hunting   Creek   to  the   falls  of  the   Potomac,  extending 
miles  inland  and  embracing  six  thousand  acres,  had  leen  purchased 
of  the   Lidians   for  six   hogsheads  of  tobacco.     Within  the  limits  of 
this  town  have  occurred  many  noteworthy  events  of  much  more  than 
local  interest  connected  with  our  national,  civil,. and  military  records, 
only  a  few  of  which,  however,  can   have   even   slight   mention  in  a 
hand-book  of  travel.      Here,  in  1755,  came  Commodore  Keppel,  with 
his  English  naval  fleet,  bringing  in  fourteen  transports,  an  army  com- 
manded by  Major-General  Edward  Braddock  to  commence,  in  co-op- 
eration with  the  ])rovincial  forces,  that  memorable  expedition  against 
the  French  and  Indians  in  the  Ohio  A^alley,  which  ended  so  disas- 
trously to  the  command  and  so  fatally  to  their  obstinate  and  despotic 
commander.      The   old  stone   building— Carlyle  House — on    Fairfax 
Street  is  still   standing,  where   Braddock,  Keppel,  and  the  five  pro- 
vincial governors,  Shirley,  of  Massachusetts  ;  Delancey,  of  New  York  ; 
Morris,  of  Pennsylvania;    Sharpe,   of  Maryland,  and   Dinwiddle,   of 
Virginia,  held  a  council  of  war  in  April  to  determine  plans  for  the 
prospective  campaign. 

Alexandria  at  the  opening  of  the  present  century  was  a  prosperous 
commercial  port,  and  many  of  her  citizens  acquired  great  wealth  from 
traffic,  and  built  for  those  times  stately  dwellings,  the  most  of  which 
still   remain   as   fine   examples  of  colonial  architecture.     Under   the 

5 


6  SOME    OLD   HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

hospitable  roofs  of  numbers  of  them,  still  pointed  out,  Washington 
and  many  of  his  illustrious  compeers  of  ante-  and  post-Revolutionary 
days  were  frequent  guests. 

The  circumstances  of  the  civil  strife  brought  to  this  old  town  years 
of  continuous  excitement.  Its  accustomed  j^eace  and  quiet  were 
broken  by  the  strange  note  and  din  of  martial  i)reparation,  the 
tramp  of  regiments,  the  clatter  of  hurrying  cavalry,  and  the  rumble 
of  artillery  and  commissary  wagons  and  ambulances.  The  Ellsworth 
tragedy  of  1861  was  an  event  which,  more  than  any  other  of  that 
memorable  time,  served  to  widen  the  breach  of  fraternal  feeling  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South.  The  following  graphic  account  of 
the  occurrence  is  from  the  Alexandria  Gazette,  Industrial  Edition  : 

"  Probably  no  survivor  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  visits  Alexandria 
without  inquiring  for  the  Marshall  House.  It  became  famous  in  his- 
tory in  the  early  days  of  the  late  war,  and  has  .so  remained  ever  since. 
It  was  in  this  building  that  one  of  the  bloodiest  tragedies  of  the 
war  was  enacted,  in  which  two  men  met  their  death  in  a  terrible  en- 
counter. 

*'  The  spring  of  1861  found  Alexandria,  as  well  as  many  other  South- 
ern cities,  in  a  ferment  of  excitement.  The  place  was  held  by  a  few 
companies  of  Confederate  soldiers,  who  flaunted  the  stars  and  bars 
literally  within  sight  of  the  Capitol  and  under  the  guns  of  the  Federal 
steamer  '  Pawnee,'  which  was  anchored  off  the  city  at  the  time. 

"  One  beautiful  Saturday  afternoon,  a  few  weeks  before  the  lamentable 
tragedy  which  concentrated  the  attention  of  the  country  on  Alexandria, 
James  Jackson,  who  w'as  the  lessee  of  the  Marshall  House,  a  .sort  of 
tavern,  more  than  a  hotel,  situated  on  the  southeast  corner  of  King 
and  Pitt  Streets,  flung  to  the  breeze,  from  the  roof  of  that  building,  a 
large-sized  Confederate  flag,  with  the  defiant  assertion  that  the  man 
who  lowered  it  would  do  so  over  his  dead  body.  The  occasion  was 
one  of  some  rejoicing  and  enthusiasm  among  those  who  had  cast  their 
fortunes  w-ith  the  Confederacy,  or  who  sympathized  with  the  disunion 
movement. 

"A  few  days  before  the  capture  of  Alexandria,  President  Lincoln 
and  his  Cabinet  from  some  elevated  spot  in  Washington,  with  field- 
glasses,  viewed  the  objectionable  flag,  and  in  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation that  followed  Mr.  Lincoln  remarked  that  the  ensign  of 
treason  would  not  remain  there  long;  nor  did  it,  as  on  the  night  of 
Thursday,  May  23,  1861,  a  silent  move  was  made  on  this  defiant  city, 
which  resulted  in  its  capture  and  the  stampede  of  its  Confederate  gar- 
rison to  Manassas  Junction,  on  the  Orange  and  Alexandria  (now  Vir- 
ginia Midland)  Railroad,  about  twenty-seven  miles  distant. 

"  The  ])lans  of  the  Federal  troops,  through  some  miscarriage,  proved 
ineffectual  so  far  as  capturing  the  rebel  soldiers  was  concerned,  and 
only  a  small  company  was  netted.  The  Federal  troops  w^ere  sent  in 
three  directions  when  the  move  on  the  city  was  made — some  by  way 
of  Chain  Bridge  above  Georgetown,  others  via  the  Long  Bridge,  where 
trains  now  jjass  from  Washington  into  Virginia,  and  the  remainder  by 
water.  The  Confederate  pickets  around  the  wharves  and  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city  gave  the  alarm  in  time  to  allow  a  safe  retreat,  and 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  7 

when  Uncle  Sam's  soldiers  entered  the  city  those  of  the  Confederacy 
were  well  on  their  way  south. 

"  The  New  York  Fire  Zouaves  were  among  those  who  reached  Alex- 
andria by  water.  No  doubt  their  young  and  patriotic,  though  ill- 
starred  colonel  had  viewed  the  obnoxious  flag  from  a  distance  as  well 
as  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  had  longed  for  the  opportunity  of  lowering  it. 
The  Marshall  House  is  situated  five  blocks  in  a  westerly  direction 
from  the  wharf  where  the  Zouaves  landed.  It  was  very  early  in  the 
morning  when  Colonel  Ellsworth,  with  a  small  squad  of  his  men,  pro- 
ceeded up  the  streets  of  Alexandria,  little  dreaming  that  in  less  than 
half  an  hour's  time  his  lifeless  body  was  to  be  borne  over  the  same 
street  to  the  boat  from  which  he  had  just  landed.  Cameron  Street, 
a  commercial  thoroughfare,  up  which  he  wended  his  way,  was  com- 
paratively deserted.  But  few  people  were  moving,  the  bulk  of  the 
city's  inhabitants  being  asleep.  The  inmates  of  the  Marshall  House 
were  still  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus,  oblivious  to  the  fact  that  the  rebels 
had  vanished  before  the  defenders  of  the  Union,  while  the  Hag  of  the 
Confederacy  was  hanging  limp  in  the  absence  of  any  l)reeze.  The 
ill-fated  Colonel  Ellsworth  soon  reached  the  fatal  tavern  and  with  his 
half-dozen  followers  obtained  an  entrance.  Meeting  with  no  opposi- 
tion, and  not  dreaming  for  a  moment  they  would  encounter  any  resist- 
ance in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  the  city  had  been  captured,  the 
colonel  proceeded  immediately  to  the  roof  for  the  purpose  of  taking 
possession  of  the  coveted  flag. 

"After  passing  through  the  front  door,  a  staircase  was  encountered 
which  ran  spirally,  the  first  turn  leading  to  the  second  floor,  the  third  to 
the  next  floor,  and  the  fourth  to  the  garret  and  roof.  The  colonel  and 
his  men,  before  they  reached  the  roof,  met  a  man  in  his  night-clothes 
coming  out  of  one  of  the  rooms,  of  whom  they  inquired  for  the  pro- 
prietor. The  man  replied  that  he  was  a  boarder  himself,  and  knew 
nothing  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  proprietor.  It  has  since  been  sug- 
gested that  the  unknown  individual  was  Jackson  himself.  It  took  the 
Zouaves  but  a  few  minutes  to  lower  the  flag  and  detach  it  from  the  pole 
which  protruded  from  the  trap-door,  and  Colonel  Ellsworth  having 
taken  it  in  charge  began  his  descent.  About  half-way  down  the  flight 
of  stairs  leading  from  the  garret  he  saw  Jackson,  but  partially  dressed, 
emerge  from  one  of  the  rooms  on  the  landing  armed  with  a  double- 
barrelled  gun.  Ellsworth,  little  dreaming  of  the  bellicose  nature  of 
the  man  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  pleasantly  remarked  to  him,  '  I've 
gotten  a  prize.'  Jackson  made  some  defiant  retort,  and,  before  any 
one  could  divine  his  intention,  raised  his  gun  and  discharged  it  at  the 
colonel.  An  extraordinary  charge  of  buckshot  had  been  placed  in 
the  weapon,  and  a  hole  was  torn  in  the  unfortunate  l^Usworth's  breast 
large  enough  in  which  to  place  one's  fist.  Colonel  Ellswotth,  it  is 
said  by  some,  fell  without  a  groan,  though  others  have  asserted  that  he 
gave  vent  to  an  audible  sigh.  In  his  descent  he  fell  on  his  face  on 
the  landing,  and  while  his  life's  blood  was  flowing,  his  followers  were 
avenging  his  death.  The  weapon  Jackson  used  was  an  ordinary 
double-barrelled  shotgun,  and  after  killing  Ellsworth  he  took  aim  at 
those  who  were  with  him,  but  before  he  could  pull  trigger  the  second 


8  SOME    OLD  IIISTORTC  LANDMARKS 

time  the  gun  was  knocked  upward  by  the  Zouaves  and  the  charge  en- 
tered a  door-frame.  Francis  E.  Brownell,  one  of  the  squad,  then  sent 
a  ball  crashing  into  Jackson's  head,  and  as  he  fell,  sword-bayonets 
were  thrust  through  him.  Jackson's  body  was  forced  down  the  flight 
of  stairs  leading  to  the  second  floor  and  fell  on  the  landing.  The 
body  of  Ellsworth  was  subsequently  raised  by  those  who  had  accom- 
panied him  into  the  fatal  buikling,  covered  with  an  American  flag, 
and  silently  and  sorrowfully  borne  to  the  boat  from  which  he  had  a 
short  time  before  landed. 

"  ('onsidering  the  terrible  tragedy  which  had  been  enacted,  the  day 
proved  a  remarkably  quiet  one,  Jackson's  body  was  soon  picked  up 
by  his  friends,  washed,  and  i)laced  in  a  coffin,  and  it  lay  in  state 
throughout  that  day  and  night. 

"  The  scene  of  the  tragedy  was  visited  by  numbers  during  the  day. 
The  landing  upon  which  Jackson  fell  and  where  he  had  writhed  in 
death  agony  presented  a  sickening  sight.  Blood  filled  a  space  about 
two  yards  square,  and  it  was  necessary  to  walk  upon  tiptoe  to  avoid 
treading  in  it.  There  was  a  pool  of  blood  about  a  foot  square  where 
l"]lls\vorth  had  fallen. 

"  Colonel  Farnham  succeeded  Ellsworth  in  command  of  the  Zouaves. 
On  the  2ist  of  July  following,  the  regiment  ],'artici];ated  in  what 
proved  to  the  Federal  army  the  inglorious  battle  of  Bull  Run.  The 
Zouaves  and  the  famous  Black  Horse  Cavalry  engaged  in  hand-to-hand 
encounter  throughout  that  eventful  day,  with  terrible  carnage  to  both, 
during  which  Colonel  Farnham  was  struck  on  the  ear  by  a  piece  of  a 
shell,  from  the  effect  of  which  he  died  a  {ft\s  weeks  later.  In  the 
stampede  from  the  fatal  field  the  Zouaves  suffered  greatly,  and  the  Mon- 
day following  the  survivors  straggled  into  Alexandria  in  a  bedraggled, 
dejected  condition,  many  of  their  comrades  being  then  stark  and  stiff 
on  the  bloody  field  of  liuU  Run.  A  cold  rain  had  set  in,  and  no  pro- 
visions had  been  made  for  their  reception,  and  they  were  on  the  verge 
of  suffering.  It  was  in  this  emergency  that  numbers  of  the  promi- 
nent people  of  Alexandria,  though  Southern  sympathizers,  exhibited  a 
Christian  spirit  which  the  good-natured  Zouaves  were  not  slow  to  ap- 
preciate. Houses  were  opened  and  entertainment  afforded  many  of 
them  and  their  straggling  cottfrtres  by  parties  whose  political  predilec- 
tions were  hostile  to  the  ])rinciples  for  which  the  vanquished  had 
fought. 

"  The  Zouaves  lingeredabout  Alexandria  for  a  few  months,  and,  the 
term  of  their  enlistment  having  exi)ired,  they  were  mustered  out  of 
service. 

"Jackson,  the  destroyer  of  Colonel  Ellsworth,  was  a  typical  South- 
erner. Though  brave  and  fearless,  his  political  predilections  had  run 
riot  with  his  judgment,  and,  rather  than  let  the  rash  threat  of  protect- 
ing his  flag  come  to  naught,  he  preferred  sacrificing  his  life.  There  is 
little  to  be  said  in  palliation  of  his  act  save  that  he  lived  at  a  time 
when  men's  blood  had  reached  the  fever-heat  of  excitement,  and  when 
ra.shness  was  occasionally  exhibited  by  the  champions  of  both  sides. 

"  The  killing  of  Ellsworth  i)roduced  the  greatest  sorrow  as  well  as  ex- 
asperation at  the  North,  and  Alexandria  was  immediately  besieged  by 


(Page  9.) 


CHRIST   CHURCH,    ALEXANDRIA,    VA. 


(Page  ^.) 


MARSHALL  HOUSE. 


(Page  lo.) 


LAKAYETTE    HOUSE. 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  9 

parties  from  a  distance  anxious  to  inspect  the  scene  of  the  tragedy. 
A  piece  of  oil-cloth  on  the  landing  on  which  the  colonel  fell  was 
gradually  cut  up  and  carried  away  by  relic  hunters.  The  flooring  sub- 
sequently met  the  same  fate,  and  finally  the  balusters  were  cut  away, 
piece  by  piece,  and  carried  North.  For  several  years  the  old  Mar- 
shall House  was  looked  ui)on  as  a  sad  memento  of  war  times  by  soldiers 
of  both  sides — by  the  Federals  as  the  i)lace  where  a  ])rave  and  promis- 
ing young  officer  laid  tiown  his  life  at  the  beginning  of  the  four-years' 
conflict,  and  by  the  Confederates  as  the  spot  where  a  determined  sym- 
pathizer of  their  cause  showed  a  courage  in  the  face  of  inevitable  death 
equalled  by  few  on  either  side. 

"About  seventeen  years  ago,  on  a  cold,  weird  night,  the  Marshall 
House  was  found  to  be  on  fire,  and,  despite  the  exertions  of  the  fire 
department,  but  little  more  than  the  bare  walls  were  left  standing. 
Upon  being  rebuilt,  it  ceased  to  be  a  house  of  entertainment,  and  the 
new  building  is  used  for  other  purposes." 

There  is  more  at  Alexandria  to  call  up  the  memory  of  Washington 
than  in  any  other  i)lace  in  our  country  except  that  of  Mount  Vernon. 
Alexandria  was,  emphatically,  his  own  town.  It  was  his  post-office, 
his  votjng-  and  market-place.  It  was  the  meeting-place  of  the  lodge 
of  Freema.sons  to  which  he  belonged.  He  was  a  member  of  its  cor- 
poration council,  and  owned  property  within  its  limits.  He  was  the 
commander  of  its  local  militia,  and  was  a  member  of  its  volunteer 
fire  company.  He  slept  in  the  houses  of  many  of  its  leading  citizens, 
and  danced  the  minuet  with  its  fairest  daughters.  He  was  a  vestry- 
man of  the  parish,  and  was  a  regular  attendant  of  Christ  Church,  where 
his  pew  is  kept  undisturbed  to  this  day.  The  tourist  who  enters 
Alexandria  by  way  of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  and  takes  the  city 
electric  railway  at  the  head  of  Cameron  Street  will  find  Christ  Church 
at  the  corner  of  that  and  Washington  Street,  four  squares  from  the 
local  dejjot.  On  the  greensward  of  this  church,  seen  on  the  left  as 
the  car  turns  from  Cameron  into  Columbus  Street,  Washington,  in 
1774,  first  counselled  resistance  to  British  tyranny.  There,  too,  in 
1861,  General  Lee  first  agreed  to  take  command  of  the  Virginia  forces 
at  the  oiiening  of  the  Civil  War.  Continuing  and  turning  into  King 
Street  the  car  crosses  Washington  Street,  where  looking  to  the  right 
may  be  seen  the  Confederate  monument  at  the  place  where  the  Alex- 
andria soldiers  left  for  the  war.  May  24,  1861.  Two  blocks  further 
east  at  Pitt  Street  the  car  reaches  the  Marshall  House,  on  the  right 
hand  side,  noted  for  the  meeting  and  tragic  death  of  Colonel  Elmer 
Ellsworth  and  Captain  James  Jackson.  The  east  window  of  the 
second  story  marks  the  place  of  the  encounter.  At  this  part  of  the 
street  in  early  days  were  the  head  springs  of  Orinoco  Creek,  which 
one  hundred  yards  north  washed  the  foot  of  a  hill  on  which  stood 
Washington's  town  house,  which,  from  1763  to  1799,  whenever  he 
came  up  from  Mount  Vernon,  he  used  for  the  transaction  of  business. 
Then  i)assing  still  further  to  the  east  the  car  at  Royal  Street  reaches 
the  point  where,  the  house  on  the  northwest  corner  being  afire,  Wash- 
ington leaped  from  his  horse  and  assisted  to  work  the  old  Friendship 
engine.     Look  a  hundred  feet  north  and  see  on  the  west  side  the  City 


lo  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

Hotel,  from  the  door  of  which,  in  1799,  Washington  gave  his  last 
military  order  to  the  Alexandria  volunteers.  On  the  east  side  see 
now,  surmounted  by  a  tower,  the  market-house  which  covers  the  spot 
where  Washington  had  his  encounter  with  Colonel  Payne,  so  familiar 
to  historic  students.  Here,  also,  is  a  museum  in  connection  with  the 
Masonic  lodge,  of  which  Washington  was  a  member,  containing  many 
relics  and  mementos  of  the  past,  and  particularly  of  the  pater patrice. 
At  the  next  block  where  the  cars  turn  into  Fairfax  Street,  note  at  the 
turn  on  the  left  the  old  frame,  hip-roofed  house,  built  in  1763,  as  the 
mansion  of  Colonel  William  Ramsay,  a  connection  of  Washington, 
and  where  the  great  chief  was  a  frequent  visitor.  One  hundred  yards 
north,  up  Fairfax  Street,  stands  within  the  area  of  the  Braddock  House 
the  stone  building,  residence  of  John  Carlyle,  where  the  governors  of 
the  provinces,  before  mentioned,  held  with  Braddock  and  Kej^pel  their 
council  of  war. 

The  visit  of  General  Lafayette  to  Alexandria  is  one  of  the  green 
spots  in  the  city's  history.  There  are  some  now  living  who  remem- 
ber the  occasion  ;  others  who  have  a  dim  recollection  of  it  when,  as 
little  children,  they  toddled  along,  having  hold  of  their  parents' 
hands.  This  was  in  the  year  1S24.  The  city  at  that  time  put  on  a 
holiday  attire,  and  the  enthusiasm  animated  all  from  the  youngest  to 
the  oldest. 

At  that  time  hundreds  of  Alexandrians  could  be  found  who  had 
fought  through  the  seven  years'  conflict  for  independence.  To  them 
the  name  of  Lafayette  was  satred.  and  many  who  jxirticipated  in  the 
honors  conferred  upon  the  illustrious  Frenchman  had  been  encouraged 
by  his  presence  and  valor  on  the  field  of  battle. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  all  the  details  of  his  reception  and  en- 
tertainment while  here.  Let  it  suffice  when  it  is  said  that  almost 
every  one  in  the  community  turned  out  and  vied  in  doing  honor  to 
him  who,  when  the  infant  republic  most  needed  help,  left  his  own  land 
and  cast  his  fortune  with  us,  and  lived  to  see  the  independence  of  a 
country  declared  which  has  grown  and  i)rospered  ever  since. 

The  house  where  Lafayette  w-as  entertained  while  in  Alexandria  is 
one  of  the  most  prominent  in  the  city.  It  is  situated  on  the  .south- 
west corner  of  St.  Asaph  and  Duke  Streets,  and  is  now  occuj^ed  by 
Mrs.  Susan  C.  Smoot.  Such  are  a  few  of  the  many  points  of  historic 
interest  which  the  old  town  possesses  for  the  curious  wayfarer  within 
its  borders. 

FROM    ALEXANDRIA   TO    MOUNT    VERNON. 

MOUN  T  VERNON,  the  home  and  last  resting-place  of  George 
Washington,  the  illustrious  commander-in-chief  of  our  colonial 
armies,  and  the  Hrst  President  of  the  United  States,  is  distant  from  Alex- 
andria nine  miles,  and  is  most  conveniently  reached  by  the  comfortable 
cars  of  the  new  electric  railway,  a  road  which,  for  thoroughne.ss  in  con- 
struction, e(iuipment.  service,  and  safety,  is  not  surpassed  by  any 
other  in  the  United  States.  Its  course  lies  down  the  Virginia  .shore 
of   the    Potomac   and    through    a   region    of  country   abounding   in 


(Page  lo.) 


BRADDOCK  S    HEADQUARTERS,    ALEXANDRIA,    VA. 


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attractive  natural  scenery  and  interesting   historic  associations,  and 
the  run  is  made  in  half  an  hour  at  frequent  intervals  every  day. 

Emerging  from  Alexandria  by  way  of  Fairfax  Street,  a  very  pleasing 
view  of  the  Potomac,  with  its  broad  estuary  of  Great  Hunting  Creek, 
is  presented  to  the  eye.  Immediately  to  the  left  is  Light  House  Point, 
which  marked  the  southeastern  boundary  corner  of  the  old  Virginia 
limits  of  the  District  of  Columbia,  as  they  were  run  and  established 
in  1 791.  Opposite,  on  the  Maryland  shore,  are  seen  Rozier's  Bluff 
and  the  heights  of  Fort  Foote  ;  and  further  down  the  expanse  of 
Broad  Bay  uniting  with  the  Potomac.  To  the  right,  looking  from 
the  railway  bridge  over  Hunting  Creek,  stretches  a  scope  of  country 
pleasingly  diversified  by  gently  sloping  hills  and  vales,  and  dotted 
with  hamlet  and  farm-houses.  Prominent  among  the  many  objects 
of  the  landscape  is  the  tall  spire  of  the  Episcoi^al  Theological  Semi- 
nary, which,  if  it  could  speak  of  the  transactions  of  some  of  the 
years  of  the  past,  could  tell  startling  stories  of  the  presence  of  muster- 
ing armies.  Around  it  in  almost  every  direction,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  civil  strife,  the  plains  and  hill  slopes  were  white  with  the  tents  of 
the  gathered  regiments,  brigades,  and  divisions  of  Union  soldiers. 
Everywhere  over  the  suddenly  ])opidated  region  was  heard  the  drum's 
wild  beats,  the  fife's  shrill  notes,  the  bugle's  echoing  calls.  The 
numerous  remains  of  their  intrenchments,  earthworks,  and  other  de- 
fences still  prominent  at  every  turn  for  miles,  attest  with  melancholy 
certainty  the  great  i)reparations  which  were  then  made  by  them  for 
the  impending  conflict,  which  ere  long  broke  with  such  terrific  force 
within  our  borders.  Union  forts  frowned  from  every  salient  point  of 
those  now  so  cpiiet  and  jjeaceful  hills,  and  a  hundred  flagstaff's  un- 
furled over  all,  their  starry  flags  to  the  passing  winds.  The  locality 
is  one  naturally  possessing  a  saddening  interest  to  the  tourist.  Every 
year  it  is  visited  by  numbers  of  the  surviving  veterans  who  figured  in 
the  scenes  of  its  stirring  times  of  over  thirty  years  ago. 

Just  beyond  the  Seminary,  in  full  sight  up  the  valley,  are  the  pick- 
eting grounds  which  long  divided  the  two  armies ;  and  near  by  is 
Bailey's  Cross  Roads,  where  was  manceuvred  by  the  Union  forces  one 
of  the  grandest  military  reviews  of  any  country  or  time.  Through 
these  camping  and  drilling  grounds,  and  far  on  beyond,  may  still  be 
traced  the  course  of  the  old  military  road,  laid  out  through  the  then 
dense  wilderness  a  hundred  years  previous,  by  which  a  portion  of 
Braddock's  army  under  General  Halket  marched  on  their  disastrous 
expedition. 

Fairfax  Court  House,  from  the  Seminary,  is  distant  fourteen  miles, 
and  the  battle-field  of  Bull  Run  about  twenty.  Half-way  between  the 
Seminary  and  the  railway  bridge  is  Cameron  Ford,  where  Hunting 
Creek  is  crossed  by  the  old  highway  from  Alexandria  to  Fredericks- 
burg ajid  Richmond.  Over  this  highway,  less  than  a  hundred  years 
before,  one  bright  morning  in  the  month  of  August,  three  horsemen 
starting  from  Mount  Vernon  might  have  been  seen  pursuing  their  journey 
to  Philadelphia  to  attend  the  first  session  of  the  General  Continental 
Congress,  which  was  to  commence  on  the  fifth  of  the  September  follow- 
ing.    They  were  George  Washington,  Patrick  Henry,  and  Edmund 


12  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

Pendleton,  all  of  Virginia — truly  a  noble  companionship.  Washing- 
ton in  the  meridian  of  his  days,  mature  in  wisdom,  comprehensive  in 
mind,  sagacious  in  foresight.  Henry  in  the  youthful  vigor  and  elas- 
ticity of  his  bounding  genius  ;  ardent,  acute,  fanciful,  eloquent.  Pen- 
dleton, schooled  in  jniblic  life,  a  veteran  in  council,  with  native  force 
of  intellect,  and  habits  of  deep  reflection.  Such  were  these  apostles 
of  liberty  repairing  on  their  august  pilgrimage  to  the  Quaker  City  to 
assist  in  laying  the  foundations  of  a  mighty  emi)ire. 

Over  this  highway,  too,  General  Sherman  in  1865  led  his  army  back 
to  the  National  Ca])ital  on  their  return  from  marching  from  "  Atlanta 
to  the  sea."  Over  this  same  highway,  too,  Washington  always  jjassed 
when  he  rode  into  Alexandria  on  horseback  or  in  his  coach.  It  was 
also  in  colonial  and  long-after  times  the  great  thoroughfare  of  all  the 
Southern  Atlantic  seaboard  tra\el  to  Philadelphia,  New  York,  Boston, 
and  other  Northern  cities.  Then  it  was  not  so  easy  a  matter  for  the 
members  of  Congress  to  get  to  the  "sessions"  as  at  present.  The 
transit  from  California  to  New  York  is  now  made  in  less  time  by  flying 
train  than  was  then  required  to  make  the  old  stage-coach  journey  from 
Richmond  to  the  same  city.  A  short  distance  above  the  railway 
bridge  is  the  new  iron  bridge  of  the  turnpike  to  Accotink,  ten  miles 
distant,  and  just  beyond  on  the  hill  crest  to  the  right  are  the  almost 
intact  earthworks  of  Fort  Lyons,  the  most  southerly  and  the  strongest 
of  the  sixty-eight  inclosed  forts  and  batteries  of  that  long  cordon  of 
war-time  defences  of  over  thirty  miles  in  length.  Near  by  Fort  Lyons  is 
Mount  Eagle.  Here  was  the  home,  still  remaining,  of  Brian,  seventh 
Lord  Fairfax  and  son  of  William  of  Belvoir.  He  was  rector  of  Christ 
Church,  Alexandria,  from  1790  to  1792.  His  title  was  confirmed  to 
him  by  the  House  of  Lords  in  1800.  Mount  Eagle  was  on  the  road 
over  which  Washington  always  pa.ssed  going  to  Alexandria,  and  he 
was  a  frequent  visitor  there. 

Leaving  the  bridge  of  Hunting  Creek  the  railway  enters  next  and 
pas,ses  through  the  lands  of  the  "  New  Alexandria  Land  and  River 
Improvement  Company."  Their  town,  projected  two  years  ago, 
already  numbers  two  factories,  a  spacious  hotel,  and  a  number  of  neat 
cottages — a  nucleus  whicli  will  no  doubt  be,  ere  long,  ra])idly  aug- 
mented with  the  revival  of  financial  confidence  throughout  our  country, 
since  the  company  offers  extraordinary  inducements  to  manufacturers 
and  others  to  come  in  and  hel})  to  make  their  cnter])rise  a  success. 

From  New  Alexandria  the  course  of  the  road  is  along  the  river 
shore  over  an  uninterrupted  alluvial  level  until  it  reaches  the  station 
at  the  "  Dvke,"  when  it  graduallv  rises  bv  a  slight  deflection  to  the 
right  until  it  ascends  to  the  highlands  at  Belmont  Station,  still  a  mile 
farther.  Beyond  this  station  a  few  hundred  paces  is  the  line  of  sur- 
vey marking  the  upper  boundary  of  the  "  Old  Mount  Vernon  Estate" 
of  eight  thousand  acres,  which  in  Washington's  time  was  divided  into 
five  main  farms  or  plantations,  and  designated  respectively,  River, 
Dogue  Run,  Mansion  Hou.se,  Union,  and  Muddy  Hole  farms.  River 
farm,  which  the  railway  strikes  first,  and  formerly  known  as  Clifton's 
Neck,  was  purcha.sed  in  1760  for  the  sum  of  three  dollars  per  acre. 
It  consisted   of  two  thousand  acres,  but  has  been  since  divided  and 


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sul)divicled  like  all  the  other  farms  into  smaller  tracts,  and  are  occupied 
by  settlers  chiefly  from  the  Northern  States  of  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania, 
New  York,  and  elsewhere,  who  have  made  many  im])rovements  upon 
them  by  clearing  up  the  grounds,  enriching  the  soil,  i)lanting  orchards, 
and  constructing  fencing  and  comfortable  dwellings.  The  surface  of 
these  highlands  is  gently  undulating,  and  consists  of  a  great  diversity 
of  soils,  which  are  remarkably  easy  of  tillage,  and  very  susceptible  of 
a  high  and  jjrofitable  fertilization,  and  are  ])articularly  adai)ted  to  the 
production  of  all  kinds  of  farm  staples,  fruits,  and  garden  vegetables 
needed  by  the  adjacent  cities.  The  divisions  lying  immediately  along 
the  river  afford  situations  for  homes  of  surpassing  beauty;  and  while 
they  are  proverbially  healthy,  and  are  abundantly  su[)i)lied  with  peren- 
nial springs  of  pure  soft  water  for  every  domestic  re(piirement,  the  rail- 
way makes  them  suburban  by  giving  them  (]uick  and  easy  transits  to 
and  from  the  National  Capital  at  all  times  of  the  year. 

A  short  distance  from  Wellington   Station  to  the  left  and  in  full 
view  stands  on  the  river-bank  the  old   Wellington   House,  built  by 
Washington  in  1768.     It  was  occujiied  by  Colonel  Tol)ias  T.ear,  who 
was  private  and  military  secretary  to  the  general,  :And  afterwards  ])ri- 
vate  tutor  to  his  adopted  children,  George  W.  Parke  Custis,  and  his 
sister  Nelly,  and  who  was  in  1805  United  States  commissioner  to  treat 
with  the  hostile  powers  of  the  Jiarbary  states  at  the  time  of  the  memo- 
rable expedition  of  General  Eaton.     By  a  provision  of  Washington's 
will  he  was  to  be  tenant  of  the  house  and  premises  rent  free  until  his 
death.     This  was  in  consideration  of  his  great  services  to  him,  and 
especially  during  the  war.     He  died  in  1816.    Afterwards,  the  farm  was 
occupied  by  two  generations  of  the  Washington  family,  Charles  A.,  a 
grand-nephew,  being  the  last,  until  1859.     Charles  was  a  genial,  jolly 
fellow,  but  not  so  well  up  in  the  arts  of  practical  farming  as  his  illus- 
trious uncle.    On  one  occasion,  he  went  into  town  to  have  some  plough- 
shares sharpened  which  were  urgently  needed  to  make  ready  his  grounds 
for  wheat  sowing,  but  falling  in  with  some  old  cronies  he, was  induced 
to  make  a  month's  visit  to  the  "  Springs ;"  but  it  was  all  the  same  to 
Uncle  Tobv  and  the  rest  of  the  waiting  "  hands,"  for  they  had  a  long 
holiday,  though  the  wheat  cro]j  went  by  default.      In   farming  he  was 
an    experimentalist,    though    always    disastrously.       He    read  in   the 
Country  Gentleman  of  the  great  profits  of  barfey  growing,  and  so  re- 
solved to  try  his  hand  also.      One  morning  in  spring,' when  the  robin 
and  bluebird  were  piping  their  jubilant  songs,  he  had  his   "gang" 
ploughing  a  ten-acre  field.     The  barley  was  sown,  and  the  harvest  time 
came,  and  the  grain  was  flailed  out  and  loaded  on  a  two-horse  team  for 
the  Alexandria  market.     The  hopeful  proprietor  mounted  his  saddle- 
horse  and  rode  in,  in  advance  to  dispose  of  his  crop.    But  barley  was  an 
unknown  quantity  he  found,  on  arriving  at  the  store  of  his  merchants  ; 
but  later,  however,  he  succeeded   in  bartering  his  grains  to  a  brewer 
for  a  barrel  of  beer,  which  he  sent  home  to  his  cellar.     The  tidings 
of  the  tran.saction  soon  spread  among  his  many  jolly  town  compan- 
ions, and,  slipping  down  the  river  by  boat  after  nightfall  to  the  Wel- 
lington House,  they  succeeded   before  morning  in  drinking  up  the 
entire  crop  of  barley. 


14 


SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 


From  Arcturus,  the  next  station  beyond,  a  smooth,  winding  avenue 
leads  down  a  few  hundred  paces  to  Andahisia,  one  of  the  many  de- 
sirable i)laces  on  the  "  Old  Estate"  which  the  railway  has  made  readily 
accessible  to  those  who  are  in  quest  of  situations  for  charming  sub- 
urban homes.  This  point  in  our  journey  is  best  described  in  the  sub- 
joined story  of  "A  Summer  Outing." 

THE  STORY  OF  AN  OUTING  AT  ANDALUSIA,  VA. 

T\VEL\'K  miles  from  the  National  Capital,  down  the  Potomac  on 
the  Virginia  shore,  is  a  spot  whose  memories  will  be  like  holy 
benedictions  to  me  through  all  the  coming  years  of  my  life.  I  was 
needing  rest,  and  there  T  found  it  in  a  sweet  and  quiet  seclusion  such 
as  I  had  never  enjoyed  before, — a  rest  which  had  no  circumstance  to 
disturb  nor  shadow  to  mar. 

This  place  Elysian  is  reached  by  the  Mount  Vernon  Electric  Rail- 
way. From  Arcturus  Station,  midway  between  Alexandria  and  the 
home  of  Washington,  you  wind  by  a  hard,  smooth  avenue  along 
green  fields,  and  through  orchards  laden  with  ripe  and  ripening  fruit- 
age, till  you  are  within  the  cooling  shadows  of  a  hundred  stately  oaks 
and  walnuts,  many  of  them  of  a  century's  growth.  Here  in  the 
midst  of  these  leafy  sentinels  is  a  home  which  in  all  its  surroundings 
and  influences,  more  nearly  than  any  other,  fills  uj)  the  measure  of  my 
ideal  dreamings. 

Andalusia  is  distant  from  the  travelled  highways,  and  before  the 
coming  of  the  electric  car  was  a  terra  incognita,  with  rarely  a  visitor, 
save  from  the  surrounding  neighborhood,  to  invade  its  (piiet  borders. 
The  pa.ssenger  from  the  deck  of  the  passing  steamer  descried  it  in  the 
distance,  showing  like  a  gem  in  its  setting  of  river  and  cool  embower- 
ing trees,  but  it  was  only  a  glimpse  of  hidden  beauties  to  be  remem- 
bered and  cherished  or  forgotten.  Now  by  rapid  and  easy  transit 
many  pilgrims  find  their  way  thither,  although  it  is  but  a  private 
home.  Little  picnic  parties  from  the  cities  adjacent,  through  the 
courtesy  of  the  proprietor,  hie  there  through  the  summer  days  to  spread 
their  repasts  under  the  shadowing  boughs,  and  make  merry  on  the  in- 
viting green  sward.  Artists  come  to  sketch  the  delightfiil  and  varied 
views  of  its  environs,  the  cycler  to  wheel  over  the  smooth  avenues, 
the  angler  to  throw  his  line  into  the  still  river  nooks,  and  the  wearied, 
like  myself,  to  seek  the  balm  of  rest. 

In  this  ideal  home  by  the  Potomac  I  found  a  welcome  and  a  hospi- 
tality which  recalled  the  many  stories  I  had  read,  of  entertainments  in 
Virginia  homes  of  the  olden  time.  For  tired  nature  there  was  no 
lack  of  sweet  restorers.  There  were  libraries,  inviting  to  every  range 
and  dei)artment  of  knowledge.  There  was  music  to  soothe  and  har- 
monize, pictures,  and  cabinets  of  curios  to  amuse,  and  a  wilderness  of 
flowers  to  jjlease  the  eye. 

All  too  swiftly  ])assed  the  time,  as  I  fondly  tarried  in  the  midst  of 
so  many  allurements  from  the  dull  and  perplexing  routine  of  business 
in  the  city.  Hours  of  the  bright  midsummer  days  I  watched  from 
the  vine-hung  verandas  of  the   "Old    Mansion,"   the  broad    river's 


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expanse  before  me,  with  its  flitting  cloud  shadows,  its  sails,  and  passing 
steamers.  Sometimes  it  was  a  leisure  stroll  along  the  pebbly  shore,  or 
boating  in  the  still  waters  that  beguiled  me,  and  sometimes  it  was 
straying  over  the  site  of  the  old  Indian  town  of  Assaomeck,  looking  for 
arrow-heads,  javelin  points,  fragments  of  pottery,  and  other  remains 
of  the  ancient  dwellers. 

One  serene  evening,  as  the  parting  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were 
fading  beyond  the  hills  I  joined  a  boating  ])arty  for  an  excursion  to 
the  opposite  shores  of  "Maryland,  my  Maryland."  A  delightful 
ride  over  a  stretch  of  two  miles  of  the  still  waters  brought  us  to  the 
head  of  "Broad  Bay,"  where  we  landed,  and  then  walked  in  the 
twilight  a  short  distance  up  the  valley  to  an  ancient  chapel,  erected 
in  the  time  when  all  the  surrounding  region  was  a  part  of  the  realms 
which  owned  the  rule  and  sway  of  the  king  of  "Old  England." 
Within  the  walls  of  this  chapel,  our  Washington,  Lord  Fairfax,  and 
many  other  noted  men  of  that  time  were  wont  to  worship.  Many 
generations  of  its  congregations  are  lying  under  the  crumbling  and 
fallen  stones  of  its  bramble-grown  graveyard  ;  and  as  I  pondered 
where  so  often  had  been  read  that  last,  solemn  ritual  of  "dust  to 
dust,"  many  a  vision  flitted  before  me,  of  happy  bridals  and  solemn 
funeral  trains  of  the  "dead  past"  of  the  long  ago. 

As  we  turned  in  pensive  mood  from  the  sacred  place,  the  full  moon 
was  up  and  beaming  brightly  on  the  still  waters  of  the  grand  old  river 
to  light  us  back  on  our  homeward  way. 

The  sketch  of  mv  outing  would  be  incomplete,  if  I  failed  to  mention  a 
sail  down  the  river  to  Fort  Washington,  and  also  a  ride  over  the  electric 
road  to  Mount  Vernon.  Reader,  did  you  ever  climb  to  the  heights  of 
the  old  fort  ?  If  not,  it  is  worth  a  journey  to  do  so.  Go  there  on  some 
fair  midsummer  day,  and  survey  from  its  vine-covered  battlements  the 
broad  and  varied  expanse  outlying  before  them.  In  that  expanse  the 
eye  may  trace  out  the  National  Cai)ital,  with  its  towering  dome  and  obe- 
lisk, sitting  superbly  enthroned  in  the  mist  and  dimness  of  the  far  away 
hills  to  the  north  ;  and  the  grand  old  river  flowing  down  in  its  seaward 
course  through  its  setting  of  green  slopes  and  plains  and  wooded  crests 
gives  to  all  the  view  a  charm  and  beauty  not  often  surpassed. 

A  visit  to  the  home  and  tomb  of  the  immortal  chieftain  is  surely  an 
event  to  linger  long  in  the  memory  of  every  patriot. 

But  I  am  reaching  the  limits  of  the  typos,  and  so  must  not  linger, 
otherwise  the  story  of  my  outing  with  its  round  of  varied  pleasures 
and  enjoyments  would  be  a  long  one.  To  the  friends  who  had  kindly 
bidden  and  welcomed  me  to  their  hospitalities  I  said  good-by,  and 
with  many  regrets  at  parting  turned  homeward  from  the  long  to  be 
remembered  scenes  of  Andalusia. 

From  Andalusia  to  Mount  Vernon  the  distance  is  four  miles,  with 
the  intervening  stations  of  Flerbert's  Spring,  Snowdcn,  Hunter's,  and 
Riverside  Park  at  Little  Hunting  Creek,  which  make  the  occupants  of 
numerous  adjacent  farms  conveniently  accessible  to  this  important  line 
of  travel.  The  creek  divides  the  Original  River  Farm  of  Washing- 
ton's map  from  the  Mansion  House  Farm,  and  one  mile  beyond  the 
road  terminates  at  the  gates  of  the  Mount  Vernon  Mansion. 


1 6  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

BROAD  CREEK— OLD  CHURCH  AND  OLD  HOUSES. 


F 


^OUR  miles  below  Alexandria,  un  the  Maryland  shore,  and  oppo- 
site to  Andalusia,  on  the  Virginia  side,  is  the  estuary  or  bay  of 
Broad  Creek.  There  Washington  often  went,  as  he  tells  us  in  his 
diary,  with  his  friend  and  neighbor,  Diggs,  of  Warburton  Manor,  to 
throw  his  line  for  the  finny  denizens  of  the  still  waters.  At  the  head 
of  this  bay,  where  now  only  the  light-draught  scow-boat  can  ascend 
the  silt-filled  channel,  large  schooners  used  to  lie  at  their  moorings  and 
load  with  cargoes  of  tobacco,  wheat,  and  corn  for  foreign  jjorts.  It 
was  a  busy  neighborhood  then,  when  the  odd  and  ancient-looking 
houses,  whidi  have  stood  through  the  changes  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  to  two  hundred  years,  were  comparatively  new,  and  the  surround- 
ing lands  were  fertile  and  produced  abundantly  all  kinds  of  farm  pro- 
ducts. 

There  is  much  in  this  isolated  locality  to  interest  the  curious  delver 
into  the  scenes  and  circumstances  of  the  olden  time.  The  weather- 
beaten  tenements,  so  dilapidated  and  forlorn  in  apjjearance  ;  the  im- 
poverished fields  and  the  forsaken  landing-place,  with  never  a  freight 
or  cargo  to  l)e  loaded  or  discharged,  will  murmur  to  him,  as  he 
thoughtfully  scans  the  desolation,  in  audil)le  stories  of  how  the  genera- 
tions of  toilers  came  and  went — how  they  fretted  out  life's  fitful  fever, 
and  were  at  last  gathered  from  their  labors  of  success  or  failure  to  the 
densely  poi)ulated  burial-place  of  the  settlement. 

More  than  two  hundred  years  ago  an  Episcopal  church  was  organ- 
ized here  by  the  first  dwellers.     The  parish  was  at  first  known  as  Pis- 
^  cataway,  afterwards  King  George's,  and  the  Church  of  St.   John's. 

The  first  house  for  worship  was  of  logs  and  built  in  1694,  rebuilt  with 
bricks  in  1722,  and  enlarged  to  its  present  dimensions  in  1763.  John 
Addison,  NVilliam  Hatton,  ^Villiam  Hutchinson,  William  Tannhill, 
John  Emmet,  and  lohn  Smallwell  were  of  its  first  vestry,  and  Rev. 
George  Tubman  its  first  rector.  This  church  antedates  all  other  F^i)is- 
copal  churches  of  the  Potomac  region  of  Maryland.  The  l)urial-place 
of  the  oUl  kirk  is  densely  peopled  with  the  dead  of  departed  congrega- 
tions. Over  most  of  the  graves  is  a  wilderness  of  tangled  vines.  Many 
of  the  stones  are  levelled  and  sunken  nearly  out  of  sight,  with  inscrip- 
tions worn  and  hard  to  decipher.  Hundreds  of  graves  have  no  stones 
at  all,  presumably  of  the  earliest  burials.  A  broad  marble  slab  lies 
over  the  remains  of  Enoch  Lyells.  killed  in  a  duel,  August  7,  1805, 
with  the  following  inscrii)tion  : 

Go,  our  dear  son,  obey  the  call  of  Heaven; 
Thy  sins  were  lew — we  trust  they  are  forgiven. 
Yet,  oh,  what  pen  can  paint  the  parents'  woe? 
God  only  can  punish  the  hand  that  gave  the  blow. 

The  quarrel  of  the  duelists  had  its  origin  in  offensive  remarks  made 
at  a  ball  in  the  village  of  Piscataway,  and  the  duel  took  place  at  John- 
son's Spring,  on  the  Virginia  shore.  The  young  man  who  was  killed 
and  who  had  made  the  remarks  was  averse  to  the  encounter,  but  was 
goaded  on  to  his  death  by  his  father  and  mother.  His  antagonist  was 
named  Bowie. 


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OLD    HOUSE   AT   BROAD   CREEK,   MD. 
200  years  old. 


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ST.  JOHN  S  CHURCH,   BROAD   CREEK,   MD. 
200  years  old. 


(Pa^^e  16.) 


OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  17 

THE   DOGUE    INDIANS— ASSAOMECK. 

Alas  for  them  !  their  day  is  o'er, 
Their  fires  are  out  from  shore  to  shore ; 
No  more  for  them  the  wild  deer  bounds, — 
The  plough  is  on  their  hunting-grounds. 
The  pale  man's  axe  rings  thro'  their  woods ; 
The  pale  man's  sail  skims  o'er  their  floods. 

ON  the  shores  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate,  and  far  inland  to  the 
west,  once  roamed  a  numerous  tribe  of  aborigines  whose  prow- 
ess was  acknowledged  and  feared  by  all  the  surrounding  tribes.  The 
chief  settlement  or  village  of  "Assaomeck,"  according  to  the  inves- 
tigations of  Professor  Holmes,  of  the  National  Ethnological  Bureau, 
occupied  the  site  now  known  as  Andalusia,  four  miles  below  Alexan- 
dria. The  great  numbers  of  stone  axes,  javelin  and  arrow  points, 
and  fragments  of  pottery  which  have  been  turned  up  there  by  the 
plough,  sufficiently  attest  the  fact.  Here,  in  1608,  that  fearless  explorer 
and  doughty  old  soldier,  Captain  John  Smith,  on  his  way  up  the  Po- 
tomac to  beyond  the  present  site  of  the  National  Capital,  stopped  to 
hold  parley  with  the  reigning  chief,  and  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace  and 
friendship. 

FORT  WASHINGTON,  AND  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE 
PISCATAWAY— LEONARD  CALVERT  WITH  HIS 
VANGUARD    OF   RELIGIOUS    LIBERTY. 


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EVEN  miles  below  Alexandria,  on  the  commanding  heights  of  the 
old  manorial  estate  of  "Warburton,"  in  Maryland,  are  the 
frowning  battlements  of  Fort  Washington.  They  help  to  give  pic- 
turesqueness  to  the  grand  landscape  of  which  they  are  a  part,  and 
they  represent  an  expenditure  of  many  hundred  thousands  of  the  pub- 
lic treasury,  and  many  years  of  hard  toil  of  long-vanished  builders. 
But  that  is  all.  For  the  defence  of  the  National  Capital,  they  are  prac- 
tically useless  against  the  new  methods  of  naval  attacks.  In  1814, 
when  the  British  fleet  came  up  the  Potomac,  the  garrison  then  occu- 
pying the  works  abandoned  them  and  allowed  the  enemy  to  proceed 
to  Alexandria  and  plunder  the  city  without  molestation.  At  the  foot 
of  the  heights,  just  under  the  walls  where  the  waters  of  the  Piscata- 
way  and  the  Potomac  unite,  came,  in  1634,  Governor  Leonard  Cal- 
vert with  two  hundred  followers,  most  of  them  Roman  Catholic  gen- 
tlemen and  their  servants,  to  establish,  under  the  provisions  of  a  royal 
charter  to  his  brother,  Cecil  Calvert  (Lord  Baltimore),  a  settlement  of 
the  new  region  of  Maryland,  as  yet  untenanted  save  by  roving  abo- 
rigines. He  anchored  his  vessels,  the  "  Dove"  and  a  small  pinnace, 
and  jjroceeded  to  negotiate  with  the  Indians,  who  assembled  on  the 
shore  to"  the  number  of  five  hundred.  The  chieftain  of  the  tribe 
would  neither  bid  him  go  nor  stay.  "  He  might  use  his  own  discre- 
tion." It  did  not  seem  safe  for  the  English  to  plant  their  first  set- 
tlement in  the  wilderness  so  high  \\\)  the  river,  whereupon  Calvert 
descended  the  stream,  examining  in  his  barge  the  creeks  and  estuaries 
near  the  Chesapeake.      He  entered  the  river  now  called  St.  Mary's, 

2 


1 8  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

and  which  he  named  St.  George's,  and  "about  four  leagues  from  its 
jimction  with  the  Potomac"  he  anchored  at  the  Indian  town  of  Yoa- 
conioco.  To  ("alvert  the  spot  seemed  convenient  for  a  ])lantation. 
Mutual  promises  of  friendship  were  made  between  the  Engbsh  and  the 
natives,' and  upon  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  March,  1634,  the  Catho- 
lics took  quiet  possession  of  the  place,  and  religious  liberty  obtained 
a  home — its  only  home  in  the  wide  world — at  the  humble  village 
which  bore  the  name  of  St.  Mary's. 

GEORGE    WASHINGTON    AND    HIS    HOME. 

Tell  us  again  the  story 

Our  sires  and  grandsires  told; 
We  love  to  hear  it  often, 

'Tis  ever  new,  tho'  old. 

ON  the  fourteenth  day  of  December,  1799,  George  Wa.shington, 
the  successful  soldier  and  leader,  the  true  patriot,  the  wise  states- 
man, the  estimable  private  citizen,  the  jniblic  benefactor  and  friend  of 
all  mankind,  pa.ssed  peacefully  from  earth,  in  his  quiet  home  at  Mount 
Vernon,  to  the  inheritance  of  the  rich  rewards  awaiting  a  life  of  exceed- 
ing trreat  usefulness  and  honor.  Since  the  occurrence  of  that  event 
which  brought  grief  and  sorrow  to  the  infant  nation  he  had  so  faith- 
fully labored  to  direct  and  establish,  only  ninety-five  years  have  elapsed, 
hardly  five  generations  of  his  posterity ;  and  a  few  are  still  remaining 
among  us  who  were  then  children.  Yet,  such  was  the  sublime  char- 
acter and  great  worth  of  the  revered  chief,  and  such  have  been  the 
grand  results  to  the  world  of  his  heroic  deeds  and  unselfish  sacrifices 
that,  in  our  grateful  remembrance  and  almost  pious  veneration  of  him, 
the  vista  of  time  through  which  we  look  back  in  contemplation  of  his 
life  and  public  services  seems  to  us  more  like  one  of  long  centuries 
than  that  of  the  few  scores  of  solemn  anniversaries  which  have  been 
recorded.  As  this  vista  lengthens  and  grows  dimmer  with  the  passing 
aAvay  of  each  succeeding  year,  we  delight  more  and  more  to  recount 
the  story  of  his  childhood  and  early  training,  of  his' military  services 
and  exploits,  of  his  subsequent  civil  career,  and,  finally,  of  his  retired 
life  as  a  farmer  on  his  broad  Virginia  estate,  where,  in  the  peaceful 
tranquillity  of  a  mind  untroubled  by  vain  ambitions  or  harassing  re- 
grets, he  lived  the  happiest  days  of  his  eventfiil  life. 

Mount  Vernon,  the  home  and  tomb,  will  ever  continue  the  grand 
focal  point  to  which  the  generations  of  our  republic  will  fondly  turn 
in  their  love  and  admiration  for  the  great  chief.  Then  shall  we  not 
keep  on  telling  the  "old,  old  story"? — the  story  which,  though  so 
often  repeated,  will  be  forever  new%  and  will  forever  charm  and  please, 
— the  one  which  poets  shall  sing  and  orators  proclaim — the  one  which 
sires  and  grandsires  shall  relate  to  the  eager  ears  of  little  children  on 
their  knees,  which  shall  cross  every  sea,  and  be  heard  in  every  land 
and  in  every  clime.  Let  it  be  told,  and  again  and  again  repeated, 
so  that  no  event  or  circumstance  connected  with  the  brilliant  career 
of  \y\Q  pater  patria  shall  remain  unknown  or  forgotten.  His  life  and 
the  i)rccious  memories  of  its  well-shaped  and  rounded  works  are  the 
common  patrimony,  and  will  be  kept  fresh  and  perennial. 


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OF   MRGIXIA  AXD  MARYLAND. 


19 


WASHINGTON'S     LINEAGE— THE     MOUNT     VER- 
NON   HOME. 

THE  political  dissensions  which  convulsed  the  English  people  in 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  finally  brought  violent 
death  to  their  king,  Charles  the  First,  and  established  in  the  place  of 
their  monarchical  government,  the  protectorate  of  Oliver  Cromwell. 
As  a  result  of  the  revolution,  the  prominent  adherents  of  royalty  found 
themselves  without  occujjation  or  favor  under  the  new  rule,  and  many 
of  them  left  the  country  and  sought  asylum  in  the  newly-opened  lands 
beyond  the  sea.  Among  this  number  were  two  brothers,  John  and 
Andrew  Washington,  of  Yorkshire,  men  of  note  and  goodly  re])uta- 
tion  in  their  native  manor,  and  descended  from  a  long  and  illustrious 
line  of  families  whose  genealogy  dated  back  nearly  to  the  time  of  the 
Norman  contpiest.  Virginia  was  already  quite  numerously  settled  by 
English  cavaliers,  who  still  kept  up  their  allegiance  to  monarchy  and 
the  Anglican  Church.  With  these  far-away  colonists  the  brothers 
joined  their  influences  and  destinies  in  the  year  1657,  and  immedi- 
ately purchased  of  Lord  Thomas  Culpeper  a  large  tract  of  land  in 
the  county  of  Westmoreland,  bordering  the  Potomac  River.  John 
married  a  Miss  Anna  Pope  of  the  same  county,  and  took  up  his  resi- 
dence on  Bridge's  Creek.  He  found  the  lands  very  rich,  and  became 
an  extensive  planter,  and  .shipped  large  quantities  of  tobacco  to  Eng- 
land and  Holland.  He  was  popular  among  the  colonists,  filled  the 
office  of  magistrate,  and  served  many  sessions  in  the  House  of  Bur- 
gesses. Possessing  a  spark  of  the  old  military  fire  of  some  of  his 
ancestors,  we  find  him,  according  to  the  records,  as  Colonel  Washing- 
ton, leading  the  Virginia  military  forces  in  conjunction  with  those  of 
Maryland  against  a  band  of  Seneca  Indians,  who  were  raiding  the  set- 
tlements of  that  region.  In  honor  of  his  sterling  worth  and  dis- 
tinguished public  services,  the  parish  in  w'hich  he  lived  was  called 
after  him,  and  still  bears  the  honored  name  of  Wa.shington.  He  died 
January,  1677,  and  his  remains  lie  entombed  in  the  family  burying- 
ground  at  Bridge's  Creek.  By  his  will  a  portion  of  his  original  pur- 
chase or  purchases,  consisting  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  acres  lying 
between  Dogue  Run  and  Little  Hunting  Creek,  now  in  Fairfax 
County,  was  devised  to  his  son  Lawrence,  from  whom  it  descended 
by  will  to  his  son  Augustine,  born  1694,  by  his  first  marriage  to  Jane 
Butler.  From  Augustine,  who  died  April  12,  1743,  it  descended  to 
his  oldest  son.  Major  Lawrence  Washington,  who  was  married  to 
Annie,  oldest  daughter  of  William  Fairfax,  of  Belvoir.  This  por- 
tion or  tract  of  land  was  the  nucleus  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate. 
On  coming  into  possession  of  it,  Lawrer.ce  Washington  cleared  and 
cultivated  the  lands  and  built  the  middle  portion  of  the  mansion, 
consisting  of  four  rooms,  and  named  the  place  Mount  Vernon  in 
honor  of  Admiral  Vernon,  under  whom  he  had  served  as  a  soldier  at 
the  siege  of  Carthagena.  He  died  July  26,  1752,  at  the  age  of 
thirty-four,  and  was  buried  in  the  great  vault  at  Mount  Vernon.  His 
portrait  hangs  in  the  Mount  Vernon  mansion.  In  his  will  the  Mount 
Vernon  estate  was  devised  to  his  daughter  Sarah,  with  the  provision 


20  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

that  if  she  should  die  without  issue  it  was  to  become  the  property  of 
his  "  loving  brother"  George,  which  so  transpired,  as  she  survived  her 
father  but  a  short  time,  and  so  his  brother,  or  half-brother  as  was  the 
fact,  inlierited  the  estate,  and  came  into  full  possession  of  it  before 
he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age.  The  widow  of  Lawrence  had  been 
amply  provided  for  by  bequests  of  other  lands,  and  afterwards  was 
married  to  Colonel  George  Lee,  an  uncle  of  Arthur  and  Richard 
Henry  Lee,  of  Revolutionary  fame  and  memory.  Owing  to  his  con- 
nection with  the  military  operations  at  that  time,  by  the  colonists 
against  the  French  and  Indians  on  the  Ohio  frontier,  George  was 
absent  from  Moimt  Vernon  during  the  most  of  seven  years.  He 
came  to  its  occupancy  in  the  year  1759,  after  the  fall  of  Fort  Du- 
quesne,  the  defeat  of  the  combined  enemies,  and  the  cessation  of  hos- 
tilities, and  shortly  after  was  married  to  Mrs.  Martha  Custis,  the  beau- 
tiful and  wealthy  widow  of  Colonel  John  Custis. 

Washington  was  now  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  in  the  full  vigor  of 
health,  and  being  free  from  engrossing  public  engagements,  with  the 
exception  of  his  duties  as  a  member  of  the  colonial  legislature,  to 
which  he  had  just  been  elected,  he  steadily  bent  his  energies  and  judg- 
ment to  the  personal  management  and  improvement  of  his  home  on 
the  Potomac.  As  already  noted  this  consisted  of  a  dwelling  with  a 
ground  floor  of  four  rooms  and  a  scope  of  twenty-five  hundred  acres 
of  land.  He  subsequently  enlarged  the  dwelling-place  to  its  present 
proportions,  extended  the  boundaries  of  the  estate,  already  extensive, 
so  as  to  include  five  thousand  five  hundred  more,  with  a  frontage 
along  tide  water  of  nearly  ten  miles,  and  then  commenced  a  series  of 
changes  over  the  entire  area  which  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  amply 
demonstrated  to  all  wlio  witnessed  the  results  that  he  was  as  sensible 
and  practical  as  a  farmer  as  he  had  been  in  his  methods  of  fighting  the 
Lidians.  Whenever  necessary  he  drained  the  grounds,  adopted  the 
plan  of  rotating  crops,  i)rocured  the  best  agricultural  implements  then 
to  be  obtained,  planted  and  sowed  the  best  seeds,  erected  comfortable 
shelters  for  his  overseers  and  hands,  had  his  home  smithy  and  wagon- 
shops  for  the  repairs  of  all  tools,  carts  and  wagons,  his  carpenters  for 
building  and  repairing  the  farm  buildings  and  fences,  had  his  grist-mill 
for  grinding  his  grains,  his  huntsmen  for  procuring  wild  game  and  his 
fishermen  for  sui)plying  everybody  on  the  premises  with  fish,  then  so 
abundant  in  the  river.  In  a  word,  all  things  on  the  estate  were  so 
directed  as  to  best  subserve  the  end  of  making  the  most  of  all  existing 
possibilities  and  satisfying  all  the  reasonable  wants  of  a  rural  commu- 
nity such  as  was  there  maintained.  Under  the  vigilant  eye  of  the 
distinguished  master  everything  went  on  with  regularity  and  certainty. 
He  carefully  looked  after  the  details  of  his  farm  operations,  and  being 
a  very  observant  man,  he  never  in  any  of  his  journeys  abroad  failed  to 
notice  any  new  agricultural  improvements,  and  was  very  ready  always 
to  put  it  into  practice  on  his  own  acres.  Bringing  to  his  aid  the 
knowledge  he  had  acquired  in  marking  out  the  boundaries  in  his 
younger  days  of  the  wilderness  possessions  of  Lord  Fairfax  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Shenandoah  with  compass  and  chain,  he  himself  laid  off 
his  estate  into  five  main  farms.     'Lhe  portion  in  the  elbow  of  the  Po- 


/ 


(Page  19.) 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


^^>  h 


0^ 


OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  21 

tomac,  and  between  that  stream  and  Little  Hunting  Creek,  was  named 
and  known  as' Clifton's  Neck  or  River  Farm,  being  the  first  of  the 
land  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate  entered  by  the  railway  going  down 
from  Alexandria,  and  consisted  of  about  two  thousand  acres.  Be- 
tween Little  Hunting  Creek  were  laid  off  the  Mansion  House  Farm 
of  1 200  acres,  Union  Farm  of  looo  acres,  Dogue  Run  Farm  of  2000 
acres,  and  Muddy  Hole  Farm  of  1300  acres. 

Several  of  these  local  names  are  found  in  Washington's  will,  which 
devises  the  property  east  of  Little  Hunting  Creek,  to  George  Fayette 
Washington  ;  about  two-thirds  of  the  portion  between  Little  Hunting 
Creek  and  Dogue  Creek,  lying  on  the  Potomac,  and  including  the 
Mansion  House  Farm,  to  Bushrod  Washington  ;  and  the  residue  being 
the  southwesterly  part  of  this  tract,  to  Lawrence  Lewis  and  his  wife 
Eleanor  Park  Lewis.  The  soil  and  other  natural  capabilities  of  his 
estate  are  accuratelv  described  bv  ^^'ashin<rton.  The  greater  i)art  he 
says  is  a  grayish  loam  running  to  clay.  Some  parts  of  it  are  of  a 
dark  mould,  some  inclined  to  sand,  scarcely  any  to  stone.  He  adds, 
"  A  husbandman's  will,  could  not  lay  the  farms  more  level  than  they 
are."  And  as  to  the  river,  '<  the  whole  shore  is  one  entire  fishery," 
"  and  springs,  with  ])lenty  of  water  for  man  and  cattle,  abound  every- 
where on  the  grounds." 

In  addition  to  his  own  dwelling-house  and  other  buildings  on  the 
Mansion  House  Farm,  he  had,  what  he  calls,  an  overlooker's  house  and 
negro  (quarters  on  each  of  the  other  farms.  He  speaks  also  of  a  newly 
erected  brick  barn,  ''equal,  perhaps,  to  any  in  America,"  on  the 
Union  Farm,  a  new  circular  barn  on  Dogue  Run  Farm,  and  a  grist- 
mill hear  the  mouth  of  Dogue  Run.  Some  idea  of  the  extent  of 
Washington's  farming  operations  may  be  formed  from  the  following 
facts.  In  17S7  he  had  five  hundred  and  eighty  acres  in  grass,  four 
hundred  acres  in  oats,  seven  hundred  acres  in  wheat,  the  .same  number 
in  corn,  with  several  hundred  acres  in  barley,  buckwheat,  potatoes, 
peas,  beans,  and  turnijjs.  His  live  stock  consisted  of  one  hundred 
and  forty  horses,  one  hundred  and  twelve  cows,  two  hundred  and 
twenty-six  working  oxen,  heifers  and  steers,  and  five  hundred  sheep, 
and  of  hogs,  many,  almost  numberless,  running  at  large  in  the  wood- 
lands and  marshes.  He  constantly  employed  two  hundred  and  fifty 
hands  (negroes),  and  kept  a  score  of  ploughs  going  during  the  entire 
year,  when  the  earth  and  the  state  of  the  weather  would  permit.  In 
1780  he  slaughtered  one  hundred  and  fifty  hogs  for  the  use  of  his 
family  and  negroes.  When  not  called  away  from  Mount  Vernon  by 
public  duties,  Wa.shington  rode  daily  over  his  farms  in  plea.sant  weather, 
and  kept  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  details  of  everything 
that  was  going  on  from  season  to  season  over  his  broad  acres.  Every 
locality  was  mapped.  Every  branch  of  labor  was  systematized,  and  all 
his  farn-Hng  operations  were  in  charge  of  competent  overseers,  who 
were  required  to  regularly  account  to  him  of  their  stewardship  with 
exactness. 

With  the  passing  away  of  the  winter  of  1799  passed  also  from  earth 
the  stately  presence  of  him  who  gave  to  the  home  and  estate  of  Mount 
Vernon  all  their  historic  character  and  importance,  and  endeared  them 


2  2  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

for  all  time  to  the  generations  of  his  countrymen  to  come  after  him  ; 
but  thenceforth  for  many  a  long  year,  in  the  absence  of  the  tireless 
care  and  watchful  eye  of  the  master,  the  fair  fields  were  despoiled  of 
their  wonted  fertility,  and  abandoned  afterwards  to  the  pine  and  cedar 
and  the  returning  wild  deer.  The  mansion  itself  and  the  immediate 
surroundings  were  sadly  suffering  from  neglect  and  the  hands  of  the 
spoiler. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  this  historic  domain,  when  in  1854  came 
to  its  occupancy,  the  vanguard  of  the  colony  of  farmers  from  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  the  New  England  States,  and  States 
of  the  West,  who  bought  large  areas  of  the  worn-down  but  desirable 
lands,  and  commenced  that  work  of  restoration  and  improvement 
which  has  been  attended  with  such  remarkable  success. 

At  that  time  there  were  but  three  white  families  on  the  whole  estate. 
Now  they  number  nearly  forty  families,  and  cultivate  farms  varying 
in  extent  from  twenty-five  to  three  hundred  acres,  with  values  of  from 
fifty  to  five  hundred  dollars  jjcr  acre. 

In  the  year  1856  was  incorporated  by  the  Legislature  of  Virginia 
the  "  Mount  Vernon  Ladies'  Association  of  the  Union,"  having  for 
its  object  the  restoration  of  the  "  mansion  and  grounds,"  and  the 
reverential  care  thenceforth  of  everything  pertaining  to  them.  With 
this  idea  in  view,  donations  were  solicited  from  the  patriotic  women 
of  the  republic,  and  the  "  Home  and  Tomb"  with  two  hundred  acres 
of  the  surrounding  lands  were  purchased  of  John  Augustine  Washing- 
ton, for  the  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  work  of  ob- 
taining the  necessary  funds  for  this  laudable  purpose  was  begun  in 
great  earnestness.  Miss  Pamela  Cunningham,  of  South  Carolina,  all 
honor  to  her  name  and  services,  and  who  by  common  consent  had 
taken  charge  of  the  work,  was  constituted  first  regent,  or  manager  of 
the  association,  and  she  appointed  vice-regents  in  every  State  of  the 
Union  as  her  a.ssistants.  Edward  P>erett  now  gave  his  tongue  and 
pen  to  the  work.  He  went  from  city  to  city,  like  Peter  the  Hermit 
pleading  for  the  rescue  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  delivering  an  oration 
on  the  character  of  Washington  for  the  fund.  Within  two  years  from 
the  first  delivery  of  the  oration,  he  paid  into  the  treasury  of  the  as- 
sociation fifty  thousand  dollars,  an  amount  increased  later  to  sixty- 
eight  thousand  dollars.  The  vice-regents  each  appointed  State  com- 
mittees, and  the  money  raised  was  nearly  all  in  dollar  subscriptions. 
In  July,  1859,  three  years  after  the  movement  was  inaugurated,  and 
one  year  before  all  the  purchase-money  was  paid  and  a  deed  given, 
the  late  proprietor  allowed  the  work  of  restoration  to  begin, — the 
work  which  has  resulted  in  the  admirable  condition  and  arrangements 
everywhere  apparent.  And  may  we  not  indulge  the  hope  that  hence- 
forth this  place,  to  which  every  patriotic  American  turns  with  pride 
and  reverence,  may  be  safe  from  a  relapse  to  the  desolation  from 
which  it  was  retrieved  ? 


/-'Auc^n^^^  yc/)/JT 


'^OAl^'lia^ 


(Page  23.) 


^^TU' 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  23 

LAWRENCE    WASHINGTON,    THE     FOUNDER    OF 
THE    MOUNT    VERNON    HOME. 

LAWRENCE  WASHINGTON  deserves  more  than  the  incidental 
notices  which  have  been  accorded  to  him  in  other  chapters  of 
this  Hand-book.  In  our  regard  for  the  merits  and  career  of  his  dis- 
tinguished brother,  on  whom  too  much  praise  cannot  be  bestowed,  we 
are  apt  to  lose  sight  of  the  noble  and  magnanimous  spirit  which  was 
so  instrumental  in  moulding  and  shaping  that  character  which  shines 
with  such  trans(-endent  lustre  in  the  galaxy  of  our  Revolutionary 
heroes.  Fifteen  years  older  than  his  brother  George,  he  at  once  in 
his  orphanage  fdled  the  place  of  the  correct  fraternal  exemi)Iar  and 
paternal  adviser.  When  Lawrence  came  up  from  the  lower  Potomac 
to  the  occupancy  of  the  domain  of  twenty-five  hundred  acres  "lying 
along  and  south  of  Little  Hunting  Creek,"  George  accompanied  him, 
and  remained  with  him  in  the  new  house  which  he  there  builded  in 
1743,  and  named  in  honor  of  his  old  commander.  Mount  ^'ernon,  until 
Thomas,  Lord  Fairfax:,  needed  him  to  take  up  his  compass  and  chain 
and  establish  the  "  buts  and  bounds"  of  his  possessions  in  the  valley 
of  the  Shenandoah. 

Major  Lawrence  Washington  was  the  second  child  and  only  sur- 
viving son  of  Augustine  Washington,  and  was  born  in  Westmoreland 
County,  Virginia,  in  1718.  He  was  a  man  of  correct  habits  and 
good  business  qualifications,  and  had  mingled  much  with  prominent 
personages  of  his  time.  He  and  his  brother  Augustine  were  among 
the  organizers  of  the  "  Ohio  Company"  to  explore  the  western  coun- 
try, encourage  settlements,  and  conduct  trade  with  the  Indians.  It 
was  in  his  relations  with  this  company  that  he  won  an  enviable  dis- 
tinction, as  did  his  brother  George  after  him,  by  avowing  himself  an 
advocate  of  religious  toleration  at  a  time  when  the  statutes  of  Vir- 
ginia recognized  but  one  religious  faith.  Never  very  strong  physically, 
with  the  continued  and  increasing  pressure  of  his  public  duties  in  the 
state  council  and  the  land  company,  his  health  gave  way,  and  in  1751, 
accompanied  by  his  brother  George,  he  went  for  healing  to  the  Island 
of  Barbadoes,  but  receiving  no  relief  he  returned  to  die  at  his  Mount 
Vernon  home,  July,  1752.  His  marriage  with  Annie  Fairfax  had 
been  blessed  by  four  children,  three  of  whom  had  died.  His  sur- 
viving child,  Sarah,  was  still  an  infant  at  the  time  of  her  father's 
death.  After  providing  in  his  will  for  his  wife,  he  left  Mount  Vernon 
to  his  daughter,  but  in  the  event  of  her  death  without  heirs,  it  was  to 
go  to  his  "beloved  brother  George."  This  daughter  died  within  a 
year,  and  George  inherited  the  "Home"  before  he  was  twenty-one 
years  of  age. 


24  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

BELVOIR— THE  OLD    COLONIAL     SEAT    OF    THE 
VIRGINIA  FAIRFAXES. 

They  come,  the  shapes  of  joy  and  woe ; 

The  airy  crowds  of  long  ago ; 

The  dreams  and  fancies  known  of  yore, 

That  have  been  but  shall  be  no  more  : 

They  change  the  cloisters  of  the  night 

Into  a  garden  of  delight ; 

They  make  the  dark  and  dreary  hours 

Open  and  blossom  into  Bowers. 

A  SHORT  distance  below  the  mansion  of  Mount  Vernon,  just  across 
the  beautiful  Bay  of  Dogue  Creek,  was  situated  a  manorial 
estate,  densely  wooded,  and  many  hundreds  of  acres  in  extent.  It  was 
a  part  of  a  very  extensive  domain  known  as  the  northern  neck  of  Vir- 
ginia, comprising  in  its  area  the  twenty-three  counties  embraced  be- 
tween the  head-waters  of  the  Potomac  and  Rappahannock  Rivers,  and 
exceeding  in  extent  more  than  five  millions  of  acres.  This  region  of 
coinitry  had  been  granted  by  letters-paient  in  1688  from  James  the 
Second  of  England  to  Lord  Thomas  Culpeper,  once  Governor  of  Vir- 
ginia from  1682  to  1686.  From  him  it  had  descended  through  his 
daughter,  Catharine  Cul])eper  Fairfax,  to  her  son  Thomas,  sixth  Lord 
Fairfax  of  his  line,  a  man  of  learning,  a  graduate  of  Oxford  College 
and  member  o(  a  literary  club,  of  which  the  celebrated  Addison  was 
the  leading  spirit,  and  to  whose  pens  we  are  indebted  for  the  "Spec- 
tator." He  was  a  grandson  of  Thomas  Fairfax,  the  renowned  gene- 
ral of  the  parliamentary  or  roundhead  armies  of  Oliver  Cromwell. 
By  the  terms  of  the  original  patent  to  Culpeper,  he  was  constituted  sole 
proprietor  of  the  soil  of  this  wilderness  empire,  with  authority  to  divide, 
sell,  grant,  and  occupy  at  his  will,  always,  however,  to  be  under  alle- 
giance to  the  royal  prerogative,  as  was  the  common  phraseology  of 
grants  in  the  days  of  feudalism.  A  royal  gift,  indeed,  was  this  grant 
to  one  royal  subject. 

To  the  fine  estate  on  the  Potomac,  first  mentioned  in  the  year  1738, 
came  Colonel  William  Fairfax,  a  cousin  of  Lord  Thomas,  from  York- 
shire, England,  and  founded  the  home  which  he  named  "  Belvoir," 
for  Belvoir  Castle  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the  English  castles, 
and  one  of  the  finest  of  the  present  day.  The  manorial  residence 
which  he  built,  one  of  ample  dimension.s  and  appointments  for  the 
time,  had  a  situation  which  commanded  extended  and  charming  views 
of  the  river  and  its  environs.  Washington,  in  his  diary,  incidentally 
tells  us  that  it  was  "  built  of  bricks  and  of  ample  dimensions,  of  two 
stories,  with  wide  passages  and  cellars,  and  convenient  offices,  hall  for 
servants,  stables  and  coach-house,  and  with  a  large  garden  adjacent, 
stored  with  a  great  variety  of  fruits,  all  in  good  condition."  The 
writer  visited  the  ruins,  early  in  the  spring  of  tlie  present  year  and 
traced  out,  and  measured  the  foundations,  and  found  them  to  be  of  the 
following  dimensions  :  the  foundations  of  the  main  building,  sixty  by 
thirty-six  feet,  with  walls  twenty-seven  inches  thick  and  cemented  by 
mortar  made  from  oyster  sluells,  which  had  become  extremely  hard 
and  tenacious.     The  cellar  had  occupied  the  whole  area,  and  was  seven 


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OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  25 

feet  deep,  with  partition  walls  twenty-four  inches  in  thickness,  with 
pavements  of  bricks  seven  inches  square  and  four  inches  thick.  Out*- 
side  of  the  gable  walls  were  heaps  of  quarry  stones,  denoting  that 
there  had  been  outside  chimneys  with  large  foundations.  Everything 
about  the  parts  of  the  walls  still  left  intact,  told  of  massiveness.  Large 
trees  had  grown  up  from  the  debris  inside  of  the  foundations,  and  briars 
everywhere  trailing  gave  to  the  spot  a  desolate  a])pearance.  The  man- 
sion had  been  enclosed  by  a  wall  of  bricks,  the  wide  foundations  of 
which  may  still  be  traced  through  their  entire  extent  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  by  one  hundred  feet.  Adjacent  are  the  ruins  of  five  other 
brick  buildings,  presumably  the  great  kitchen,  the  coacherie,  and 
quarters  for  the  house-servants;  and  in  front,  on  the  river  bank,  two 
hundred  feet  above  the  rippling  tide,  were  the  ruins  of  the  summer 
house,  which  had  commanded  so  many  pleasant  views  and  fair  pros- 
pects. There  is  but  an  acre  or  so  of  cleared  ground  about  the  ruins. 
This  must  have  been  the  site  of  the  ''garden,"  for  there  were  thousands 
of  daffodils  waving  their  golden  petals  in  the  morning  breeze,  just  as 
they  had  done  when  my  Lady  Fairfax  was  wont  to  tread  those  now 
neglected  paths  in  the  long,  long  years  before.  Through  all  the  time 
of  the  coming  and  going  of  the  many  spring  times,  they  had  faithfully 
kept  up  their  bright  successions,  and  were  yet  remaining,  silent  me- 
mentos of  the  kindly  care  of  vanished  hands.  But  every  vestige  of 
the  choice  fruit  trees  described  by  Washington  had  disappeared,  saving 
some  veteran  pear  and  cherry  trees,  which  were  yet  thrifty-looking 
and  white  with  bloom.  A  grape-vine  eight  inches  in  diameter  was  still 
vigorous  by  the  fallen  walls,  its  branches  again  putting  forth  buds  with 
the  return  of  another  spring.  The  wells,  from  out  of  whose  cooling 
depths  so  many  refreshing  draughts  had  been  drawn  by  the  "  old  oaken 
bucket"  for  man  and  beast,  were  choked  and  dry.  The  desolation 
was  complete.  But  the  morning  sun  was  shining  warm  and  radiant 
over  it  all.  The  buds  of  the  forest  boughs  were  opening  into  foliage. 
The  glad  spring  birds  were  lightly  flitting,  and  chirping  their  songs  of 
love  ;  and  hard  by,  the  rippling  waters  of  the  beautiful  river,  were  hur- 
rying on  in  their  seaward  course,  just  as  when  the  watchful  eyes  and 
careful  hands  of  the  masters  were  there,  to  order  and  direct  all  things 
aright. 

In  the  wood  near  adjoining,  rows  of  sunken  mounds  indicated  the 
family  burial-place.  A  score  of  graves  may  still  be  counted,  withoiit 
stone  or  vestige  of  enclosure.  The  marble  slabs  which  had  marked 
the  last  resting-places  of  William  Fairfax  and  Deborah,  his  wife,  the 
first  master  and  mistress,  and  which  had  remained  intact  until  a  few 
years  before  the  war,  had  been  sacrilegiously  broken  up  and  carried 
away.  Surely,  this  place  of  sepulture,  so  neglected  and  forlorn,  ought 
to  be  enclosed,  and  receive  from  some  friendly  hands  that  care  and 
attention  which  the  eminent  Avorth,  of  at  least  one  of  those  whose  ashes 
are  there  entombed,  so  well  deserves.  The  old  road  may  still  be  traced, 
from  the  mansion  down  to  the  river's  edge,  over  which  Washington 
so  often  passed,  in  his  visits  by  water  to  his  friends  the  Fairfaxes. 

Here  at  Belvoir,  in  those  primitive  times,  lived  like  feudal  magnates, 
the  representatives  of  the  honorable  Fairfax  family,  who,  marrying  and 


26  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

giving  in  marriage  with  other  noted  scions  of   Virginia,  saw  their 
wealth  and  influence  steadily  increase,  as  the  years  passed  on. 

As  we  behold  the  mansion  now,  in  imagination,  after  the  lapse  of  a 
century  and  a  half,  with  the  help  of,  not  only  Washington's  descrip- 
tion, l)ut  with  that  of  accounts  gathered  from  old  inhabitants  of  the 
neighborhood  many  years  since  dust,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  tracings 
of  the  ruins  already  described,  our  idea  is  that  of  a  stately  manor 
house,  very  similar,  in  outline  and  finish,  to  most  of  the  old  colonial 
dwellings  still  to  be  seen  in  Virginia,  down  to  two  generations  ago.  It 
has  two  stories  and  an  attic,  with  steep  over-jutting  roofs,  dormer  win- 
dows, and  huge  outside  chimneys  of  stone.  There  are  belfry,  and  out- 
look, and  ample  verandas,  for  the  summer  breezes  and  views  of  the 
near  flowing  river.  Within,  the  halls  and  rooms  are  spacious,  with 
high  ceilings,  wainscoted  and  panelled  walls,  and  the  fireplaces  are 
wide  for  warmth  and  cheery  flames.  This  is  our  ideal  of  the  "  Belvoir 
House."  There  is  not  only  a  "  fruit  garden  as  has  been  stated,"  with 
bountiful  supply  of  varieties  of  fruits,  but  there  is  a  garden  of  flowers 
where  "  my  lady  Fairfax"  hasher  box-bordered  beds  of  lady's-slippers, 
sweet-williams,  marigold  shrubs,  lilacs,  and  the  like  ;  and  there  are 
winding  paths,  and  carriage-ways  around  the  mansion,  which  lead 
down  under  the  branches  of  great  oaks,  to  the  edge  of  the  rippling 
waters  or  out  into  the  broad  fields. 

The  apartments  of  the  Belvoir  House,  judging  from  a  partial  inven- 
tory of  the  household  effects  sold  at  the  two  public  sales  in  1774,  must 
have  been  furnished  as  luxuriously  as  any  old  England  manor  house 
of  the  time.  The  purcha.ses  made  by  Washington  alone,  amounted  to 
nearly  two  hundred  pounds  sterling. 

William  Fairfax,  the  first  proprietor,  was  born  in  1691,  and  was  the 
grandson  of  Henry  Fairfax,  second  son  of  fourth  Lord  Fairfax  and 
Anna  Harrison  Fairfax.  He  had  received  a  collegiate  education,  had 
seen  much  of  the  world,  and  his  mind  had  been  enriched  and  ripened 
by  varied  and  venturous  experience.  Of  an  ancient  English  family, 
he  had  entered  the  army  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  subsecjuently 
had  served  with  honor  in  the  royal  navy,  both  in  the  P^ast  and  the 
West  Indies, — had  officiated  as  governor  of  New  Providence,  after 
having  aided  in  rescuing  the  town  from  pirates,  also,  had  fought  vali- 
antly for  his  sovereign,  Queen  Anne,  in  Spain,  under  Colonel  Martin 
Bladen  ;  and  after  coming  to  Belvoir,  we  find  him  a  member  of  his 
majestie's  honorable  council  of  Virginia,  and  at  one  time,  its  presiding 
oflicer.  Having  married  in  the  Bahamas,  Sarah,  daughter  of  Major 
Walker  of  Nassau,  she  accompanied  him  to  England.  Previous  to  his 
coming  to  Belvoir,  he  filled  an  appointment,  from  1725  to  1734,  as  col- 
lector of  customs  in  New  Salem,  in  the  province  of  Massachusetts. 
There,  his  first  wife  died,  and  was  buried.  His  son  George  William 
was  born  in  Nassau.  Three  of  his  children  were  born  in  Salem. 
Thomag,  of  the  royal  navy,  was  killed  in  battle,  Annie  married  Law- 
rence Washington,  and  was  the  first  mistress  of  Mount  Vernon  ;  and 
Sarah  married  John  Carlyle  of  Alexandria,  \'irginia,  who  was  a  major 
and  commissary,  in  the  French  and  Indian  War.  By  a  second  mar- 
riage, with  Deborah  Clark  of  Salem,  he  had  three  children, — Brian, 


GRANES   OH    WILLIAM    AND    DEBORAH   FAIRFAX. 


"Where  shall  once  the  wanderer  weary 
Meet  his  resting-place  and  shrine  : 
Under  palm  trees  by  the  (langes. 
Under  lindens  of  the   Rhine? 

Shall   I  somewhere  in  the  desert 
Owe  my  grave  to  stranger  hands  ? 

Or  upon  some  lonely  seashore 
Rest  at  last  beneath  the  sands? 


(Page  27.) 


'Tis  no  matter!     Ood's  wide  heaven 
Must  surround  me  there  as  here ; 

And  as  death  lamps  o'er  me  swinging 
Night  by  night  the  stars  burn  clear." 


/ 


OF   VIRGINIA   A. YD   MARYLAND.  27 

eighth  Lord  Fairfax,  born  in  1732  and  died  in  1802  ;  William  Henry, 
killed  at  the  storming  of  Quebec  in  1759  ;  and  Hannah,  who  married 
Warner  Washington,  cousin  to  (leorge  Washington. 

William  Fairfax  had  come  to  \'irginia  to  act  as  agent  for  his 
cousin.  Lord  Thomas,  in  the  management  of  his  estates;  and  in  1739 
came  also  for  the  first  time  the  Lord  Proprietor  himself,  to  become 
better  aciiuainted  with  his  wilderness  possessions.  After  a  year's 
sojourn  he  returned  to  England,  but  as  he  had  been  so  well  plea.sed  by 
the  Virginia  country,  its  climate,  and  resources,  after  settling  up  his 
affairs  there,  and  giving  to  his  cousin  Robert,  his  Kentish  estates,  also 
selling  out  his  army  commission,  he  came  back  in  1746,  and  for  six 
years  made  his  home  at  Belvoir,  preparatory  to  his  future  and  last 
home  beyond  the  Blue  Ridge  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley. 

William  Fairfax,  we  are  informed  by  a  contemporary  writer,  lived 
at  his  Belvoir  home  in  the  style  of  an  English  gentleman,  surrounded 
by  an  intelligent  and  cultivated  family  of  sons  and  daughters.      He       ^  , 
died  in  1757.      His  wife  Deborah  sH-ri'ivcd  hiui  but  a  few  ye^ls.      The    t^ct^fyw-y 
ashes  of  both  are  in  the  neglected  family  burying-ground  at  Belvoir. 

A  marble  tat)let,  bearing  the  following  inscription,  was  still  intact 
over  the  grave  of  Deborah  until  within  a  few  years  before  the  war,  but 
not  a  vestige  of  it  now  remains. 

Here  rest  the  remains  of  Deborah  Clark  Fairfax,  who  departed  this  / 
troublesome  life  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  -H^,  i7^T  in  the  ihid^- ^1*^  ^ 
seventh  year  of  her  age.  She  was  the  dau^lteP^f  Francis  Clark,  of 
New  Salem,  Massachusetts  colony,  and  late  wife  of  William  Fairfax, 
Esqr.,  collector  of  his  Majestie's  customs  on  south  Potomac,  and  one 
of  the  King's  honorable  council  of  Virginia.  In  every  station  of 
life  worthy  of  imitation.  A  faithful  and  loving  wife.  The  best  of 
mothers.  A  sincere  and  amiable  friend.  In  all  religious  duties  well 
instructed  and  observant,  and  has  gone  where  only  such  virtues  can 
be  rewarded. 

George  William  Fairfax,  born  1724,  succeeded  to  his  father's  es- 
tate. He  had  been  educated  in  England,  as  was  then  the  custom 
generally,  with  the  sons  of  the  wealthy  colonists,  after  which  he  re- 
sided for  some  time  at  Belvoir.  His  wife  was  Sarah,  daughter  of 
Colonel  William  Cary,  of  Hampton,  Virginia.  In  1747  he  accom- 
panied Washington  over  the  mountains,  and  assisted  him  in  his  three 
years'  survey  of  the  lands  of  the  Proprietor  in  the  Shenandoah  Val- 
ley. In  1773,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  went  to  England  to  look 
after  some  property  he  had  inherited  there.  On  his  way  over  he 
passed  the  ships  which  brought  to  the  colonies  the  ill-fated  cargoes  of 
tea,  which  were  either  Inirned  or  thrown  overboard  into  the  harbors  of 
Boston  and  Annapolis.  Washington  consented  to  act  as  his  agent  in  his 
absence,  supposing  that  it  would  be  of  but  short  duration.  But  owing 
to  long  delays  in  the  settlement  of  his  business  affairs,  he  never  re- 
turned to  his  Virginia  home.  He  finally  directed  his  agent  to  sell 
his  household  furniture  and  the  stock  on  the  plantation,  and  lease  the 
premises  of  Belvoir.     A  sale  was  accordingly  held  on   the  estate  in 


28  SOME   OLD  inSTORTC  LANDMARKS 

XII \,  ^vhich  continued  two  days,  and  a  further  sale  was  held  in  De- 
cember of  the  same  year.  The  property  was  then  leased  for  seven 
years  to  Rev.  Andrew  Martin,  but  in  a  short  time  after,  the  man- 
sion was  destroyed  by  fire.  The  owner's  long  absence,  and  the  fact 
that  the  old  home  was  desolate,  together  with  the  excitement  and  de- 
rangement of  l)usiness  incident  to  the  war  for  independence,  caused  the 
estate  to  rapidly  depreciate.  Early  in  1775  Washington  rclinfjuished 
the  agency  of  the  George  William  Fairfax  business,  as  his  time  was  fully 
taken  uj)  in  directing  the  momentous  affairs  of  the  Revolution. 

The  proprietors  of  Mount  Vernon  and  Belvoir  and  their  families 
were  always  on  the  most  friendly  terms,  as  the  letters  extant  of  each 
attest.  Mr.  Fairfax  favored  the  early  protests  against  the  unjust  acts 
of  Great  Britain  and  the  ])etitions  to  the  king  in  the  interests  of  the 
colonies,  but  opposed  measures  looking  to  forcible  resistance. 

He  was  for  many  years  a  member  of  the  House  of  Burgesses,  and 
it  was  on  his  account  that  during  the  election  of  1754,  when  he  was 
opposed  by  Colonel  Elzy,  that  his  friend  General  Washington  engaged 
in  the  acrimonious  controversy  with  Mr.  Payne  in  the  market-place 
of  Alexandria. 

During  the  war  which  ensued,  some  of  the  property  of  George  Fair- 
fax in  Fairfax  County  was  escheated  to  the  State.  His  lo.ss  of  income 
from  America  forced  him  to  limit  his  expenses.  He  therefore  re- 
moved from  Yorkshire  to  Bath  and  lived  in  a  modest  way,  dividing 
generously  his  limited  means  with  American  prisoners  held  in  Eng- 
land. He  left  Belvoir  and  some  other  landed  property  to  Ferdinando, 
third  son  of  his  half-brother.  Rev.  Bryan  Fairfax,  and  died  at  Bath, 
England,  April  3,  1787,  and  was  buried  in  Wirthlington  Church. 
His  will  appointed  George  Washington  as  one  of  his  executors.  His 
wife  survived  him  until  1812.  Bryan  Fairfax,  third  son  of  William 
Fairfax,  married  a  daughter  of  Wilson  Cary,  and  his  residence  in 
Fairfax  County  was  known  as  Towlston  Hall,  near  Hunting  Creek 
Bridge.  He  was  a  brother-in-law  of  Lawrence  Washington,  a  friend 
of  George  Washington,  and  at  one  time  was  chaplain  in  the  army  by 
his  appointment.  Ferdinando,  eighth  lord,  died  at  Mount  Eagle, 
near  Alexandria,  in  1820,  at  the  age  of  fortj'-six.  Bryan  Fairfax  was 
rector  of  Christ  Church  from  1790  to  1792,  and  went  to  England  in 
1793  to  claim  the  peerage  after  the  death  of  Robert,  the  seventh  lord, 
who  never  lived  in  this  country.  The  title  was  confirmed  to  him  in 
1800.  During  the  last  years  of  his  life  he  was  a  Swedenborgian. 
Here  is  his  epitaph — 

IN    MEMORIAM. 


Right  Hon.  and  Rev.  Bryan 

Lord  Fairfax, 

Baron  of  Cameron,  Rector  of 

Fairfax  Parish, 

Died  at  M^  Eagle,  Aug.  7, 

i8o2,  AGED  75. 

Years  ago  this  fine  estate  of  Belvoir  with  its  two  thousand  acres  of 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


29 


good  farming  lands  passed  from  the  hands  of  the  Fairfax  family;  and 
with  the  excei)tion  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  acres  the  entire 
area  has  lapsed  back  to  a  veritable  wilderness,  chiefly  of  pines  and 
cedars,  which  have  grown  up  from  the  ridges  still  everywhere  to  be 
seen  of  the  old  corn  and  tobacco  crops.  Once  nearly  every  acre  of 
its  arable  jwrtions  was  under  tillage,  but  as  the  impoverishing  i)rocess 
of  cropping  without  renumeration  to  the  soil  went  on  through  the 
generations  as  was  so  often  the  case  in  old  Virginia,  the  worn-out 
acres  here  and  there  were  abandoned  to  the  invasion  of  the  wiry  sedge 
grass  antl  wikl  wood  growth.  The  encroachments  were  slow  but  sure, 
for  there  were  no  hands  to  check  or  stay  its  progress.  Now,  this  wil- 
derness is  awaiting  the  coming  of  axes  and  hoes  and  ploughs  which, 
in  the  hands  of  cai)able,  industrious,  and  practical  settlers,  will  reverse 
the  order  of  nature.  <;lear  the  cumbered  lands,  turn  anew  the  kindly 
furrows,  scatter  again  the  seeds,  gather  again  the  harvests,  and  build 
up  in  the  wastes,  homes  of  comfort,  with  gardens  and  orchards,  and 
all  the  surroundings  which  make  rural  life  so  pleasant  and  desirable. 
Almost  within  sight  of  the  National  Capital,  lying  on  tide  water,  and 
near  to  the  line  of  the  new  Electric  Railway,  the  realization  of  all 
these  possibilities  cannot,  we  think,  be  so  very  remote  ;  and  some 
lover  of  the  picturesque  and  beautiful,  with  historic  pride  and  ven- 
eration for  the  associations  of  the  "dear,  dead  past  l^eyond  recall," 
which  linger  all  around  the  famous  locality  by  the  "grand  old  river," 
will  we  trust  come  with  ample  means  and  clas.sic  taste,  and  on  the 
foundations  of  the  old  Fairfax  home  erect  a  structure  which  will 
be  worthy  of  the  superb  situation  and  the  story  of  its  memorable 
events. 

The  curious  wayfarer  of  our  time  who  strays  by  the  site  of  the 
once  stately  mansion  of  Belvoir  will  find  only  fallen  walls,  blackened 
hearthstones,  mounds  of  briar-grown  bricks  and  rubbish  to  mark  the 
historic  spots  where  through  so  many  years  went  on  the  long  forgotten 
routine  of  domestic  events  and  incidents  of  colonial  life  in  the  Fair- 
fax family  successions.  Of  all  these  events  and  incidents  w'hich  would 
be  fraught  with  so  much  interest  to  the  present  generation,  only  the 
most  fragmentary  accounts  have  come  down  to  us  through  either 
written  record  or  word  of  tradition.  Only  here  and  there  a  canvas 
memory — some  familiar  names,  and  some  wandering,  vague  report  of 
grace  and  loveliness  and  gallant  exploit.  Their  failings  are  lost  sight 
of  and  no  longer  dwell  in  living  recollection.  Let  them  so  remain, 
bright  images  gilded  by  the  sunlight  of  the  past  and  clad  in  all  their 
halo  of  romance — with  nothing  hidden  by  the  distance  but  their 
human  imperfections.  We  know  that  in  connection  with  Mount' 
Vernon  this  home  of  the  Fairfaxes  was  one  of  the  chief  social  centres 
of  the  tide-water  region  of  the  Old  Dominion,  with  always  open  doors 
and  a  generous  hosi)itality  for  the  coming  guest.  We  know-  that 
within  its  walls  our  Washington  was  an  ofttimes  and  welcome  guest. 
From  Mount  Vernon  it  was  but  a  few  minutes'  sail  or  pull  with  the 
oars ;  and  well  he  knew  how  to  handle  both.  Here  it  was  that  he 
met  the  charming  Miss  Mary  Gary,  sister  of  Mrs.  George  Fairfox, 
and  became  conscious  for  the  first  time  in  his  stripling  years  of  the 


3° 


SOME  or.n  insioRfc  landmarks 


conquering  fascinations  of  female  charms,  only  to  be  denied  afterwards 
the  coveted  privilege  of  l)eing  a  suitor  and  claimant  of  the  hand  and 
heart  of  the  young  lady  by  the  stern  and  unyielding  father,  who  failed 
to  ijerceive  in  the  young  aspirant  a  prospect  of  that  wealthy  and  in- 
fluential alliance  which  he  had  contemplated  for  his  daughter.  "  His 
heiress,"  said  the  haughty  old  cavalier,  "  had  been  used  to  riding  in 
her  own  chariot  attended  by  servitors."  The  love-lorn  youth  pressed 
no  more  his  claim  after  such  an  unexpected  rebuff,  and  never  saw  her 
but  once  again.  That  was  when  he  nodded  to  her  pallid  and  fainting 
visage  in  a  window  of  the  old  capital  of  Williamsburg,  when  he  rode 
through  on  his  triumphal  march  with  waving  l)anners  and  music  play- 
ing from  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown.  We  know  also 
that  Lord  Thomas  Fairfax,  the  proprietor,  the  scholar  and  graduate 
of  Oxford,  and  the  friend  of  Addison,  the  whilom  devotee  of  fashion 
and  gayety  in  old  London  town,  and  the  jilted  and  inconsolable 
lover,  was  for  years  a  dweller  under  the  same  hospitable  roof.  We 
know,  too,  that  in  those  halls  were  gravely  talked  over  and  considered 
by  many  great  minds  of  the  time  various  measures  for  the  public 
weal  in  the  infant  colony  preparatory  to  their  proposal  and  final  en- 
actment in  the  House  of  Burgesses  at  the  vice-regal  capital  of  Williams- 
burg. This  is  all  of  the  story  which  has  come  down  to  us  through 
the  long  lapse  of  the  years.  The  rest  of  it  for  the  most  i)art  is  silent 
forever  with  the  dust  of  the  many  actors  of  those  times.  Some  of  it 
may  still  be  preserved  in  musty  letters  and  other  papers  of  old  lofts 
and  garrets,  some  time  it  may  be  to  be  rescued  and  unfolded  for  the 
curious  listener  by  faithful  chroniclers  yet  to  come.  But  in  our  fond- 
ness for  all  such  reminiscences  of  the  olden  times,  we  may  go  back  in 
imagination  through  the  dim  and  shadowy  vistas  of  the  past,  and 
giving  loose  rein  to  fancy,  let  it  summon  up  and  reincarnate  for  us 
the  many  other  honored  guests  of  high  degree  who  came  and  went 
from  year  to  year  over  those  thresholds  as  social  or  other  occasions 
invited. 

Let  us  for  a  time  be  spectators  within  those  old  halls  with  their 
massive  oaken  doors  and  wide  fireplaces,  and  their  wainscoted  and 
panelled  walls,  whereon  hang  fowling-pieces  and  antlers  of  the  chase, 
and  from  which  look  down  ancestral  faces,  and  appear  pictures  of  old 
castles  and  scenes  of  battle.  Many  shadowy  forms  stand  out  in  strange 
outline  before  our  wondering  visions.  We  smile  at  their  quaint  cos- 
tumes and  their  ways  of  speech,  but  they  are  men  and  women  well 
bred,  with  courtly  manners  and  comely  lineaments,  and  they  please  us 
well  by  their  easy  dignity  and  stately  demeanor.  They  pass  on  and 
vanish.  Another  group  comes  up — a  group  of  neighbors  and  friends 
listening  intently  to  the  "freshest  advices"  by  the  latest  shij)  just  in 
from  London,  Amsterdam,  or  Barbadoes  to  Alexandria  or  Dumfries, 
it  may  have  been,  after  a  voyage  of  weeks  or  months.  The  London 
Gazette  informs  them  of  the  "  wars  and  rumors  of  wars"  in  Europe,  of 
the  campaigns  in  Germany  and  India,  and  of  the  course  of  hostilities 
between  England  and  France  ;  and  precious  letters  are  read  telling  of 
how  all  is  going  with  friends  they  left  behind  them  in  the  homes  so  far 
away  over  the  seas. 


o 
c 
i/> 

o 

z 


< 


OF   J'/A-(7/.\V.I   AXD   .V.IA')V..I.Yn.  31 

The  scene  changes.  Strains  of  music  are  floating  on  the  air,  and 
ladies  fair  and  gay  gallants  how  gracefully  to  each  other  and  trij)  gayly 
through  the  mazes  of  the  minuet.  Meanwhile,  as  the  music  and  the 
dance  go  on,  my  Lord  Thomas  sits  complacently  in  his  easy  arm- 
chair, attired  in  velvet  coat,  and  ruff,  doublet  and  silken  hose  and 
buckles.  His  dancing  days  are  over,  for  he  has  passed  his  three- 
score milestone,  and  his  hair  is  well  silvered  o'er,  but  he  watches  as 
intently  the  gliding  figures  over  the  oaken  floor,  and,  mayhap,  his 
thoughts  are  far  away  in  halls  of 'Yorkshire  or  Kent,  or  old  London, 
when  in  his  heyday  of  life  he,  too,  had  tri])i)ed  as  gayly  with  the  giddy' 
girl  who  had  so  cruelly  won  his  heart  and  then  played  him  false  for 
another.  The  old  baron  is  genial  and  kindly  to  all,  and  everybody 
is  fond  of  him  and  graciously  defers  to  his  lineage  and  experience. 
He  chats  pleasantly  with  the  guests,  delights  in  their  merriment,  and, 
anon,  in  drowsy  mood,  goes  nodding,  and  then  passes  away  to  the  land 
of  dreams.  We  linger  still,  and  the  scene  again  changes.  The 
ble^ised  Christmas  tide  comes  round.  The  busy  note  of  preparation  is  rife 
in  I'arlor  and  kitchen.  The  hickory  yule  logs  are  piled  and  lighted, 
and  their  cheery  and  warming  flames  go  trooping  up  the  great  stone 
chimneys  into  the  midwinter  night.  The  holly  branches  and  mistletoe 
boughs  are  hung  on  the  walls.  Genial  and  convivial  friends,  young 
and  old,  come  in  from  anear  and  afar,  and  there  is  full  measure  of 
kindly  feeling  and  good  cheer  and  a  jocund  time  for  all.  The  bounti- 
ful board  smokes  as  in  old  England's  manorial  homesteads  with  savory 
venison,  wild  turkey,  and  the  wild  boar's  head  from  the  surrounding 
forests.  As  we  wait  still  longer  in  the  shadows  of  the  old  mansion  we 
may  give  still  wider  range  to  fancy,  and  call  up  to  view  scenes  of  mirth 
and  rejoicing,  as  when  joyous  bridal  bells  \\  ere  chiming  ;  or  scenes 
of  sorrow  and  mourning,  as  when  funeral  bells  were  tolling.  And, 
waiting  still  longer  with  the  coming  and  going  of  the  years,  we  may 
note  the  passing  out  over  the  threshold  of  the  old  mansion  its  master 
and  mistress,  to  take  that  long  voyage  across  the  ocean  which  was  to 
separate  them  forever  from  their  Virginia  home.  And  yet  a  little  longer 
we  will  wait,  till  the  household  heirlooms  and  treasures  are  sold  under 
the  hammer  of  the  auctioneer  and  are  scattered  widely  over  the  land, 
and  finally,  till  that  baleful  day  comes,  when  those  storied  walls  go 
down  in  fire  and  crumble  to  dcst,  and  there  is  an  end  to  all  the  times 
of  glad  meetings  and  good  cheer — of  all  the  times  of  song  and  music 
and  the  dance  and  of  all  the  kindly  greetings  and  farewells  at  the 
ancient  homestead  of  Belvoir. 

The  years 
Have  gone,  and  with  them  many  a  glorious  throng 
Of  happy  dreams.     Their  mark  is  on  each  brow, 
Their  shadows  in  each  heart.      In  their  swift  course 
They  waved  their  sceptres  o'er  tiie  beautiful, 
^         And  they  are  not.     They  laid  their  pallid  hands 
Upon  the  strong  man,  and  the  haughty  form 
Is  fallen,  and  the  flashing  eye  is  dim — 
They  trod  the  hall  of  revelry,  where  throng'd 
The  bright  and  joyous,  and  the  tearful  wail 
Of  stricken  ones  is  heard  where  erst  the  song 
And  reckless  shout  resounded. 


32 


SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 


These  are  only  the  picturings  of  fancy,  and  to  many  they  may  seem 
idle  and  vague,  even  foolish  ;  but  they  are  jncturings  which  some  of 
us  love  to  linger  over,  and  are  loth  to  let  pass  from  our  visions,  for 
they  touch  responsive  chords  of  our  hearts  and  set  them  to  rhythm  and 
accord  with  all  that  belongs  to  those  remote  but  cherished  times ;  and 
as  tlie  vistas  lengthen  and  grow  dimmer  we  shall  but  cling  to  them 
and  love  them  all  the  more. 

Scattered  over  the  tide- water  region  of  Virginia  are  hundreds  of 
such  heai)s  of  bricks  and  stones  as  those  to  be  seen  on  the  site  of  the 
old  house  of  Belvoir  we  have  been  describing  ;  and  they  arrest  the  at- 
tention of  the  thoughtful  passer  and  tell  to  him  mute  but  pathetic  and 
imi)ressive  stories  of  the  past,  of  rural  mansions  of  the  great  Virginia 
estates  where  culture,  refinement,  and  a  generous  hospitality  abounded. 
Only  a  tew  of  the  typical  old  buildings  remain  for  us,  and  these  are 
passing  rapidly  from  view,  and  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  the 
last  of  these  landmarks  of  the  vice-regal  and  revolutionary  times  will 
be  no  more. 

GREENWAY    COU=RT. 

NOT  far  from  the  little  village  of  Millwood,  in  the  Shenandoah 
Valley,  there  stood  a  few  years  ago  an  ancient  mansion  of 
peculiar  interest.  It  was  plainly  a  relic  of  the  remote  past — quaint  in 
style,  and  suggestive  to  the  beholder  of  strange  circumstances  and 
histories.  Tall  locusts  of  a  century's  growth  surrounded  it,  and  waved 
their  spreading  branches  over  its  steep  roofs  and  windows. 

This  ancient  mansion  was  once  the  home  of  an  English  nobleman, 
who  only  chanced  to  live  in  Virginia,  and  did  not  directly  influence  in 
any  considerable  measure  the  events  of  the  period  in  which  he  was  an 
actor.  Anci  what,  it  may  be  asked,  had  Thomas,  Lord  Fairfax,  Baron 
of  Cameron,  the  sixth  of  the  name,  of  Greenway  Court  in  the  Shen- 
andoah Valley,  to  do  with  the  history  of  his  era?  What  did  he  per- 
form? and  why  is  a  place  demanded  for  him  in  our  annals?  The 
answer  is  not  difficult.  With  this  notable  person  who  has  pa.ssed  to 
his  long  rest,  and  lies  nearly  forgotten  in  the  old  church  at  Winchester, 
is  connected  a  name  which  will  never  be  forgotten.  His  was  the  high 
mission  to  shape  in  no  small  measure  the  immense  strength  of  George 
Washington.  His  hand  pointed  attention  to  the  rising  planet  of  this 
great  life,  and  opened  its  career  toward  the  zenith — the  planet  which 
shines  now  the  polar  star  of  our  liberties,  set  in  the  stormy  skies  of  the 
Revolution.  The  brilliance  of  that  star  no  man  can  now  increase  nor 
obscure,  as  no  cloud  can  dim  it, — and  yet,  once  it  was  unknown,  and 
needed  assistance,  which  Lord  Fairfax  afforded. 

Any  account  of  the  youth  of  Washington  must  involve  no  small 
reference  to  the  old  fox-hunting  Baron  who  took  an  especial  fancy  for 
him  when  he  was  a  boy  of  sixteen,  and  greatly  aided  in  developing 
his  capabilities  and  character.  Fairfax  not  only  thus  shaped  by  his 
counsels  the  unfolding  mind  of  the  young  man,  but  placed  the  future 
leader  of  the  American  Revolution  in  that  course  of  training  which 
hardened  his  muscles,  toughened  his  manhood,  taught  him  self-reliance, 
and  gave  him  that  military  repute  in  the  public  eye,  which  secured 


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OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


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for  him  at  a  comparatively  early  age  the  appointment  of  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Continental  armies  over  all  competitors.  First  and 
last,  Fairf:ix  was  the  fast  and  continuing  friend  of  Washington,  and 
not  even  the  struggle  for  indei)endence,  in  which  they  espoused  oppo- 
site sides,  operated  to  weaken  this  regard.  In  imagination  let  us 
look  at  this  old  house  in  which  Lord  Thomas  passed  about  thirty  years 
of  his  bachelor  life.  It  stands  before  us  on  a  green  knoll, — solitary, 
almost,  in  the  great  wilderness,  and  all  its  surroundings  impress  us 
with  ideas  of  pioneer  life  and  habits.  It  is  a  long,  low  building,  con- 
structed of  the  limestone  of  the  region.  A  row  of  dormer  windows 
stands  prominently  out  from  its  steep  over-hanging  roof,  and  massive 
chimneys  of  stone  appear  outside  of  its  gables  which  are  studded 
with  cooi)s  around  which  swarm  swallows  and  martins.  From  the 
ridge  of  the  roof  rise  two  belfries  or  lookouts,  constructed  ])robal)ly 
by  the  original  owner  to  give  the  alarm  in  case  of  an  invasion  by  the 
savages.  Not  many  paces  from  the  old  mansion  was  a  small  log  house 
in  which  the  eccentric  proprietor  slept,  surrounded  by  his  dogs,  of 
which  he  was  passionately  fond  ;  the  large  edifice  having  been  assigned 
to  his  steward.  A  small  cabin  of  stone  near  the  north  end  of  the  house 
was  his  office  ;  and  in  this  he  transacted  all  the  business  of  his  vast 
possessions,  giving  cpiit-rents,  signing  deeds,  and  holding  audiences  to 
adjust  claims  and  boundary  lines.  Scattered  over  the  knoll  were  the 
cpiarters  for  his  many  servants.  And  here  in  the  midst  of  dogs  and 
horses,  backwoodsmen,  Indians,  half-breeds,  and  squatters,  who  feasted 
daily  at  his  plentiful  board,  the  fine  gentleman  of  Pall  Mall,  the  friend 
of  Joseph  Addison,  passed  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  He  lived 
in  this  frontier  locality  the  life  of  a  recluse.  He  had  brought  with  him 
an  ample  library  of  books,  and  these  were  welcome  companionship  for 
him  in  his  solitary  hours.  Ten  thousand  acres  of  land  around  his  un- 
pretentious lodge  he  had  allotted  for  a  manorial  estate,  with  the  design 
at  some  time  of  erecting  upon  it  a  castle  for  a  residence  \  this  design 
he  never  executed. 

x\t  the  age  of  twenty-five,  Lord  Fairfax  was  one  of  the  gayest  of  the 
young  men  of  London  society.  He  went  the  rounds  of  di.s»ipation 
with  the  fondest  enjoyment,  and  was  considered  one  of  the  finest 
beaux  of  his  day.  He  was  well  received  by  all  classes.  Young  noble- 
men, dissipating  rapidly  their  patrimonial  substance,  found  in  him  a 
congenial  companion  in  their  intrigues  and  revels.  Countesses  per- 
mitted him  to  kiss  their  jewelled  hands ;  and  when  he  made  his  bow 
in  their  drawing-rooms,  received  him  with  their  most  patronizing 
smiles.  But  our  young  lord  after  a  time  found  himself  arrested  in  his 
gay  round  of  pleasures  in  the  haunts  of  silk  stockings  and  hooped 
petticoats.  He  had  revolved  like  a  gayly-colored  moth  about  many 
beautiful  luminaries  without  singeing  his  wings.  But  his  hour  of  fate 
came.  One  of  the  beauties  of  the  time  transfixed  him.  He  circled 
in  closer  and  closer  gyrations.  His  pinions  were  caught  in  the  blaze, 
and  he  was  a  hopeless  captive.  I\Iy  Lord  Fairfax  no  longer  engaged 
in  revels  or  the  rounds  of  dissipation,  but  like  a  sensible  lover  ac- 
cepted the  new  conditions,  and  sought  only  to  make  everything  ready 
for  a  life  of  real  happiness  in  the  nuptials   of  two  loving  and  con- 

3 


34  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

fiding  hearts.  He  turned  resolutely  from  the  frivolous  past  and  looked 
only  to  the  i)romising  future,  which  he  saw  as  if  unfolding  something 
higher  and  more  substantial  for  his  achievement  and  enjoyment,  and 
then  the  real  sweetness  and  dejjth  of  his  truer  nature  revealed  them- 
selves from  beneath  the  wrappings  of  dissipation  and  vice.  He  gave 
up  everything  which  had  pleased  him  for  this  woman  ;  and  all  that  he 
now  asked  was  permission  to  take  his  affianced  away  from  the  danger- 
ous atmosphere  of  the  court,  and  to  live  with  her  peacefully  as  a  good 
nobleman  of  the  provinces.  He  loved  her  passionately,  and  wished 
to  di-scard  all  who  threatened  to  interfere  with  the  exclusive  enjoyment 
of  her  society.  All  his  resources  were  taxed  to  sujiply  the  most  splen- 
did marriage  gifts;  and  absorbed  in  this  delightful  dream  of  love,  his 
haj)piness  was  raised  to  the  empyrean.  But  he  was  destined  to  have 
a  sudden  awakening  from  his  dream,  a  terrible,  almost  fatal  fall  from 
his  cloudland.  He  had  expended  the  wealth  of  his  deep  and  earnest 
nature  on  a  coquette, — his  goddess  was  a  woman  simply, — and  a  very 
shallow  one.  She  threw  Fairfax  carelessly  overboard,  and  married  a 
nobleman  who  won  her  by  the  superior  attractions  of  a  ducal  coronet. 
Thus  struck  doubly  in  his  pride  and  his  love,  Fairfax  looked  around 
him  in  despair  for  some  retreat  to  which  he  might  fly  and  forget  in  a 
measure  his  sorroAvs.  London  was  hateful  to  him,  the  country  no  less 
distasteful.  He  could  not  again  plunge  into  the  mad  whirl  of  the 
one,  nor  rust  away  in  the  dull  routine  of  the  other.  His  griefs  de- 
manded action  to  di.ssipate  them, — adventure,  new  scenes,  another 
land  were  needed.  This  proce.ss  of  reflection  turned  the  young  man's 
thoughts  to  the  lands  in  far  away  Virginia  which  he  held  in  right  of 
his  mother,  the  daughter  of  Lord  Culpeper,  to  whom  they  had 
originally  been  granted  ;  and  finally  he  bade  adieu  to  England  and 
came  over  the  seas.  Such  were  the  events  in  the  early  life  of  this 
gentleman  which  brought  him  to  Virginia. 

The  house  of  Belvoir  to  which  Lord  f^airfax  came  was  the  residence, 
as  has  already  been  stated,  of  Sir  William  Fairfax,  his  cousin,  to 
whom  he  had  entrusted  the  management  of  his  Virginia  lands.  Law- 
rence 'iVashington,  the  eldest  brother  of  George,  had  married  a 
daughter  of  Sir  William;  and  here  commences  the  connection  of  the 
already  aged  proprietor  and  the  boy  of  sixteen  who  was  to  lead  the 
armies  of  the  Revolution.  Washington  was  a  frequent  inmate  of  the 
Belvoir  home  ;  and  the  boy  was  the  chosen  companion  of  the  old  lord 
in  his  hunting  exi)editions.  In  the  reckless  sports  of  the  field  the 
proprietor  seemed  to  find  the  chief  solace  for  his  love-lorn  griefs. 
Time  slowly  dissipated  his  despairing  recollections,  however,  and  now, 
as  he  approached  the  middle  of  that  century  the  dawn  of  which  had 
witnessed  so  much  of  his  misery,  the  softer  traits  of  his  character  re- 
turned, and  he  was  to  those  for  whom  he  felt  regard  a  most  delightful 
and  instructive  companion.  Almost  every  trace  of  personal  attrac- 
tion, though,  had  left  him.  l^pwards  of  six  feet  in  stature,  gaunt, 
raw-boned,  near-sighted,  with  light  gray  eyes,  and  a  sharp  aquiline 
nose,  he  was  scarcely  recognizable  as  the  elegant  young  nobleman  of 
the  days  of  Queen  Anne.  But  time  and  reflection  had  mellowed  his 
mind,  and  when  he  pleased,  the  old  gentleman  could   enchain   his 


OF   VfRGIXIA   AXn   MAKYJ^AND. 


35 


hearers  with  brilliant  conversation  of  which  his  early  trainin^^  anil 
experiences  had  given  him  very  great  coniniand.  He  had  seen  all  the 
great  characters  of  the  i)eriod  of  his  youth,  had  watched  the  unfold- 
ing of  events,  and  studied  their  causes.  All  the  social  history,  the 
scandalous  chronicles,  the  ])rivate  details  of  celebrated  personages 
had  been  familiar  to  him  ;  and  his  conversation  thus  presented  a 
glowing  picture  of  the  past.  Something  of  cynical  wit  still  clung  to 
him,  and  the  fireside  of  Belvoir  was  the  scene  of  much  satiric  com- 
ments between  the  old  nobleman  and  his  cousin  William.  But  Fairfax 
l)reserved  great  fondness  for  youtli,  and  took  esp'ecial  pleasure  in  the 
society  of  our  George  of  Mount  Vernon.  He  not  only  took  him  as 
a  comi)anion  in  his  hunts,  but  liked  to  have  the  boy  with  him  when 
he  walked  out  ;  and  it  may  be  easily  understood  that  the  talks  of  the 
exile  had  a  deep  effect  upon  young  Washington. 

The  import  of  Lord  Fairfax's  connection  with  the  future  xom- 
mander-in-chief  lies  chiefly  in  the  commission  which  he  intrusted  to 
the  boy  of  seventeen,  that  of  surveying  and  laying  out  his  vast  pos- 
session in  the  Shenandoah  Valley.  Providence  here  as  everywhere 
seemed  to  have  directed  the  movements  of  man  to  work  out  its  own 
special  ends.  This  employment  as  surveyor  on  the  wilderness  frontiers 
was  the  turning-point  in  the  young  man's  life,  and  the  results  of  the 
expedition  of  three  years  in  its  influences  on  his  habits  and  character, 
the  information  and  self-reliance  it  gave  him,  and  the  hardships  it  taught 
him  to  endure  are  now  the  i)roperty  of  history. 

It  is  not  a  part  of  our  design  to  follow  the  young  surveyor  in  his 
expedition  \\hich  led  him  from  Greenway  Court  to  the  headwaters  of 
the  Potomac  where  Cumberland  now  stands,  and  thence  into  the 
wilderness  of  the  "Great  South  Branch,"  a  country  as  wholly  un- 
known as  it  was  fertile  and  magnificent.  He  returned  to  Mount 
V^ernon  a  new  being,  and  the  broad  foundation  of  his  character  was 
laid. 

The  first  act  of  his  eventful  life  had  been  played — the  early  lessons 
of  training  and  endurance  thoroughly  learned — the  scene  of  his  sub- 
sequent exertions  fixed  ;  and  the  prudence,  courage,  coolness,  and 
determination  which  he  displayed  on  this  arena,  made  him  general  in 
chief  when  the  crisis  came,  of  the  forces  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle. 
Lord  Fairfax  had  given  him  the  impetus.  From  him  he  recei\ed  the 
direction  of  his  genius,  and  to  the  attentive  student  of  these  early 
events  the  conviction  becomes  more  and  more  absolute  that  Lord 
Fairfax  was  the  great  "influence"  of  his  life.  And  the  interest 
attaching  to  the  career  of  this  noble  patron  consists  chiefly  in  his  con- 
nection with  the  life  of  the  rising  hero.  Having  formed  as  we  have 
seen  in  no  small  measure  the  character  of  the  boy  of  seventeen  he 
lived  to  receive  the  tidings  that  this  boy  had  overthrown  forever  the 
dominion  of  Great  Britain  in  America  on  the  field  of  Yorktown. 
So  had  Providence  decreed;  and  the  gray-haired  baron  doubtless  felt 
that  he  was  only  the  huml)le  instrument  in  that  all  jiowerful  Hand. 

After  Yorktown — after  the  supreme  defeat  of  the   proud   English 

general  by  the  lad  whom  he  had  trained,  it  was  "  time  for  him  to  die." 

His  death  took  place  in  1781,  at  the  age  of  ninety-three,  and  his 


^6  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

body  lies  buried  in  the  old  Episcopal  churchyard  at  Winchester,  Va. 
His  barony  and  its  prerogatives  according  to  English  law  descended 
in  the  absence  of  a  son  to  his  eldest  brother  Robert,  who  thus  became 
seventh  Lord  Fairfax.  The  latter  died  in  Leed's  Castle,  England, 
1 791,  without  a  son.  The  baronial  title  then  fell  to  Rev.  Bryan 
Fairfax,  son  of  William  and  brother-in-law  of  Lawrence  Washington. 
His  place  was  Towlston  Hall,  Mount  Eagle,  on  Hunting  Creek,  Fair- 
fax County,  Va.     He  died  in  1802. 

The  estate  of  Greenway  Court  of  ten  thousand  acres  descended  to 
relatives  of  the  proprietor  in  England.  The  lodge  pr  mansion,  like 
that  of  Belvoir  on  the  Potomac,  went  down  in  fire. 

^A^OOD   LAWN   MANSION,  THE   HOME   OF  NELLY 

CUSTIS. 

ONE  of  the  most  beautiful  young  women  of  her  time  was  Eleanor 
Parke  Custis,  a  granddaughter  of  Martha  Washington  and  an 
adopted  daughter  of  General  Washington.  Her  portrait,  i)ainted  by 
Gilbert  Stuart,  was  the  most  attractive  picture  among  the  rare  paintings 
at  Arlington  House,  the  residence  of  her  brother,  George  W.  Parke 
Custis,  for  about  fifty  years.  It  is  the  likeness  of  a  maiden  when  about 
eighteen  years  of  age,  the  admired  of  all  who  attended  the  republican 
court  during  the  last  year  of  Washington's  administration. 

She  is  dressed  in  a  plain  white  garment,  in  the  scant  fashion  of  the 
day,  one  of  her  iilumj),  bare  arms  forming  a  conspicuous  feature  of 
the  picture,  her  chin  resting  upon  a  finger  of  her  gently  closed  hand. 
Her  sweet  face,  regular  in  every  feature,  is  garnished  by  her  dark  curls, 
tastefully  clustering  around  her  forehead  and  temples,  while  her  long 
hair,  gathered  in  an  apparently  careless  manner  on  the  top  of  her 
head,  is  secured  by  a  cluster  of  white  flowers.  The  whole  picture  is 
modest,  simple,  beautiful. 

"  Nelly  Custis,"  as  she  was  called  in  her  maidenhood,  was  as  witty  as 
she  was  beautiful ;  quick  at  repartee,  highly  accomplished,  full  of  infor- 
mation, a  good  conversationalist,  the  life  of  any  company  whether  young 
or  old  and  Avas  greatly  beloved  by  her  foster-father,  the  great  patriot. 
When  in  June,  1775,  Washington  was  appointed  Commander-in-Chief 
of  the  Continental  Army,  he  placed  John  Parke  Custis,  the  father  of 
"  Nelly,"  on  his  staff,  in  which  capacity  he  served  during  most  of  the 
long  war  that  followed.  He  was  aide  to  \\'ashington  at  the  siege  of 
Yorktown  in  the  autumn  of  1781,  and  was  then  a  member  of  the 
^■irginia  Assembly,  but  dying  that  year  of  fever,  his  children,  George 
W.'Parke  Custis  and  Eleanor  Parke  Custis.  were  left  orphans,  the  for- 
mer nearly  three  years  old  and  the  latter  only  six  months  old,  and  be- 
came the  adopted  children  of  Washington-. 

Washington  had  a  favorite  nephew,  Lawrence,  a  son  of  his  sister 
Betty  Lewis.  He  was  much  at  Mount  \ernon  after  Wa.shington's  re- 
tirement from  the  presidency,  and  the  "blessing"  of  a  "good  hus- 
band" for  Nelly  when  she  would  "  want  and  deserve  one"  was  bestowed 
upon  her.  She  and  Lawrence  Lewis  were  married  February  22,  1799- 
Many  suitors  had  sought  her  hand,  to  be  denied  for  the  one  whom  her 


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OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  37 

grandfather  had  chosen  and  preferred  for  her  over  all  others.  About 
a  month  before  the  happy  event  the  patriot  wrote  to  his  nephew,  say- 
ing, "  Your  letter  of  January  loth.I  received  in  Alexandria  on  Monday, 
whither  I  went  to  become  the  guardian  of  Nelly,  thereby  to  authorize 
a  license  for  your  nu])tials  on  the  2 2d  of  next  month."  The  wedding 
took  place  on  the  last  anniversary  of  his  birthday  that  Washington 
spent  on  earth.  Great  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  event.  The 
mansion  was  decked  with  llowers  and  evergreens,  and  ample  provision 
made  for  a  time  of  festivity  and  good  cheer ;  and  the  gentlefolk  of 
the  surrounding  country  invited.  There  were  assembled  for  the  occa- 
sion the  Dandridges,  C'ustises,  Calverts,  Lees,  Lewises,  Corbins,  Bush- 
rods,  Blackburns,  ^L^sons,  CarroUs,  and  many  others.  The  ceremony 
was  performed  in  the  great  drawing-room  lighted  by  many  waxen 
tapers,  which  brought  out  in  strong  relief  the  silent  i)ortraits  on  the 
walls,  in  curious  contrast  with  the  merry  throng  below  them.  The 
stately  minuet  was  danced  and  the  spirited  Virginia  reel.  Low 
voices  whispered  tender  words  in  hall  and  anterooms,  and  the  house 
soon  to  be  so  silent  and  mournful,  echoed  with  mirth  and  hilarity.  It 
was  a  brilliant  scene.  The  picturesque  costumes  of  the  colonial  days 
were  still  in  vogue, — rich  fabrics,  and  richer  colors,  stomachers,  and 
short  clothes,  jewelled  buckles  and  brooches,  powder  and  ruffles  every- 
where. Mount  ^'ernon  never  witnessed  such  a  scene  again.  Ten 
months  later,  in  the  same  long  drawing-room  so  lately  the  scene  of  these 
bridal  festivities,  the  body  of  the  great  chief  lay  on  its  sable  bier. 

By  a  provision  of  the  last  will  and  testament  of  George  Washing- 
ton, made  July  9,  1799,  "all  that  tract  of  land"  in  the  county  of 
Fairfax,  and  a  portion  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate  "north  of  the 
road  leading  from  the  ford  of  Dogue  Run  to  the  gum  spring  as  de- 
scribed in  the  devise  of  the  other  part  of  the  tract  to  Bushrod  Wash- 
ington until  it  comes  to  the  stone  and  three  red  or  Spanish  oaks  on 
the  knowl — thence  with  the  rectangular  line  to  the  back  line,  between 
Mr.  Mason  and  me — thence  with  that  line  westerly  along  the  new 
double  ditch  to  Dogue  Run  by  the  tumbling  dam  of  my  mill — thence 
with  the  said  run  to  the  ford  aforementioned,  to  which  I  add  all  the 
land  I  i)os.sess  west  of  said  Dogue  Creek,  bounded  easterly  and  south- 
erly thereby — together  with  the  Mill  and  Distillery,  and  all  other 
houses  and  improvements  on  the  premises,  making  together  about  two 
thousand  acres,"  was  devised  as  a  dower  to  the  aforesaid  Major  Lewis 
and  Nelly  his  wife.  On  this  patrimonial  estate  these  favored  subjects 
of  the  general's  solicitude  erected  in  1805  a  commodious  dwelling, — 
much  more  pretentious  than  that  of  Mount  Vernon, — and  began  the 
establishment  of  their  new  home.  Nelly  was  then  just  twenty-five 
years  of  age.  It  had  been  six  years  since  she  followed  the  remains 
of  her  honored  grandfather  to  their  last  earthly  resting-place,  and 
Martha^,  her  grandmother,  had  only  three  years  before  been  laid  by 
his  side.  They  built  their  dwelling-place  three  miles  inland  from 
Mount  Vernon,  but  on  a  high  elevation,  so  that  it  commanded  a 
pleasant  view  of  the  river  and  the  expanse  of  Dogue  Bay  and  its  wide 
stretching  valley. 

Lender  the  roof  of  Wood  Lawn,  as  at  Mount  Vernon,  was  ever  dis- 


38  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

pensed  a  generous  hospitality,  and  many  were  the  distinguished  vis- 
itors of  the  time  from  near  and  afar,  who  came  to  cross  its  threshold 
and  pay  their  regards  to  its  well-belpved  and  accomplished  matron. 

Lafayette,  on  his  second  visit  to  the  land  he  had  so  valiantly  helped 
to  defend,  came  here  in  1824  to  renew  his  fondly-cherished  acquaint- 
ance with  Nelly,  the  stately  house-wife,  who  was  but  a  child  when  he 
had  seen  her  before  in  the  home  of  his  old  commander,  and  had  taken 
her  in  her  laughing  moods  upon  his  knee  and  kissed  her  with  a 
parental  fondness,  remembering  doubtless  the  dear  ones  of  his  own 
household  in  la  belle  France.  For  nearly  forty  years  Nelly  was  mis- 
tress of  the  Wood  Lawn  mansion,  and  here  were  born  to  her  four  chil- 
dren,— Agnes  the  eldest,  dying  at  school  in  Philadelphia ;  Frances 
Parke,  who  married  General  E.  G.  W.  Butler,  and  died  at  Pass  Chris- 
tian, Mississippi,  a  few  years  ago  ;  Lorenzo,  and  Eleanor  Angela,  who 
married  Hon.  C.  IVL  Conrad,  of  Louisiana,  and  died  in  New  Orleans 
many  years  ago.  Major  Lawrence  Lewis  died  at  Arlington,  Novem- 
ber 20,  1839,  and  one  summer  day,  July  15,  1852,  Mrs.  Nelly,  his  wife, 
followed  him  full  of  years  and  honors  to  the  burial  vault  at  Mount 
Vernon.  She  had  passed  o^  year  beyond  the  threescore  and  ten  line. 
To  the  watcher  from  farmhouse  and  village,  that  must  have  seemed  a 
lonely  and  mournful  funeral  procession,  indeed,  as  it  slowly  wended 
its  course  down  the  long  Virginia  highway  from  the  Shenandoah  to 
the  Potomac.  The  hearse  containing  the  remains  of  the  aged  grand- 
mother, and  a  solitary  carriage  accompanying,  with  the  two  surviving 
grandsons,  one  of  whom  is  still  living  to  tell  of  the  impressive  cir- 
cumstances of  the  event.  Late  at  night  their  journey  was  finished, 
and  the  coffined  form  of  Nelly  was  placed  in  the  parlor  of  Mount  Ver- 
non, where,  more  than  fifty  years  before,  crowned  with  bridal  wreaths, 
"  the  fairest  lady  of  the  land,"  Washington  himself  had  affectionately 
given  her  in  marriage,  and  commended  her  to  the  love  and  pro- 
tecting care  of  the  one  favored  claimant  of  his  choice,  and  where  she 
had  received  the  congratulations  and  blessings  of  so  many  of  her 
kinsfolk  and  friends.  Many  of  the  citizens  of  Alexandria  and  Wash- 
ington and  the  surrounding  country  came  to  pay  their  tributes  of  fond 
remembrance  and  regard  to  "Nelly"  as  she  lay  in  state  in  the 
"mansion,"  and  to  see  the  last  of  "earth  to  earth."  Down  in  the 
family  burial-place,  just  by  the  waters  of  the  river  on  whose  pleasant 
banks  she  had  passed  so  many  happy  days  in  childhood  and  youth,  her 
dust  is  very  near  to  that  of  her  kind  and  loving  guardians.  A 
marble  monument  marks  her  last  resting-place  with  the  following  in- 
scription : 

Sacred 

to  the  memory  of  Eleanor  Parke  Custis,  granddaughter  of  Mrs.  AVash- 
ington,  and  adopted  daughter  of  General  Wa.shington.  Reared  under 
the  roof  of  the  Father  of  his  Country,  this  lady  was  not  more  remark- 
able for  the  beauty  of  her  person  than  for  the  superiority  of  her  mind. 
She  lived  to  be-^mired,  and  died  to  be  regretted,  July  15,  1852,  in 
the  seventy-fifet  year  of  her  age. 

On  last  Decoration  Day  the  writer  esteemed  it  a  great  pleasure  to 


(Page  33.) 


NELLY   CUSTIS, 
At  eighteen. 


OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


39 


strew  her  apparently  neglected  grave  with  flowers.  Even  in  her  last 
closing  years,  Nelly  retained  many  traces  of  her  early  beauty  and 
vivacity. 

We  have  been  told  by  her  surviving  grandson  that  the  early  home 
life  and  associations  of  Mount  Vernon  lingered  ever  with  his  grand- 
mother as  beatifying  visions,  and  that  she  never  wearied  in  recount- 
ing them  to  her  children  and  grandchildren.  A  theme  dearest  of  all 
to  her  heart  was  the  story  of  her  social  relations  with  the  fond  and 
indulgent  master  and  mistress  of  the  Mount  Vernon  home  whose 
passing  away  from  her  she  long  and  deeply  mourned. 

"All  who  knew  the  subject  of  our  sketch,"  says  her  aunt,  Mrs. 
General  Robert  E.  Lee,  in  her  memoir  of  George  W.  Parke  Custis, 
"  were  wont  to  recall  the  pleasure  they  had  derived  from  her  extensive 
information,  brilliant  wit.  and  boundless  generosity.  The  most  tender 
parent  and  devoted  friend,  she  lived  in  the  enjoyment  of  her  affections. 
She  was  often  urged  to  write  her  memoirs,  which  might  even  have 
surpassed  in  interest  to  her  countrymen  those  of  Madame  de  Sevigne 
and  others  of  equal  note,  as  her  pen  gave  free  expression  to  her  lively 
imagination  and  clear  memory.  Would  that  we  could  recall  the  many 
tales  of  the  past  we  have  heard  from  her  lips,  but,  alas  !  we  should  fail 
to  give  them  accurately.  One  narrative  is  retained,  as  it  made  a 
strong  impression  at  the  time.  She  said  the  most  perfect  harmony 
always  existed  'between  her  grandmamma  and  the  general,'  and 
that  in  all  his  intercourse  with  her  he  was  most  considerate  and  tender. 
She  had  often  seen  her  when  she  had  something  to  communicate,  or  a 
request  to  make  of  him  at  a  moment  when  his  mind  was  entirely  ab- 
stracted from  the  present,  seize  him  by  the  button  to  command  his 
attention,  when  he  would  look  down  upon  her  with  a  benignant  smile 
and  become  at  once  attentive  to  her  wishes,  which  were  never  slighted. 
She  also  said  that  the  grave  dignity  which  he  usually  wore  did  not 
prevent  his  keen  enjoyment  of  a  joke,  and  that  no  one  laughed  more 
heartily  than  did  he  when  she  herself,  a  gay,  laughing  girl,  gave  one 
of  her  saucy  descriptions  of  an\'  scene  in  which  she  had  taken  part, 
or  any  one  of  the  merry  pranks  she  then  often  played  ;  and  that  he 
would  retire  from  the  room  in  which  her  young  companions  were 
amusing  themselves,  because  his  presence  caused  a  reserve  which  they 
could  not  overcome.  But  he  always  regretted  it  exceedingly,  as  their 
sports  and  enjoyments  always  seemed  to  interest  him." 

Of  course,  Washington  was  always  Nelly's  ideal  hero,  and  the 
grandest  of  all  the  line  of  noble  men. 

General  Zachary  Taylor  was  one  of  her  favorites  among  the  public 
men  of  her  time,  and  when  he  was  elected  to  the  presidency,  she  paid 
him  a  visit,  and  was  for  some  time  an  honored  guest  in  the  White 
House,  where  she  received  the  marked  attentions  of  manv  distinguished 
personages  of  that  day.  While  she  lived  she  did  not  lose  the  hold  she 
had  in  all  her  younger  3'ears  upon  the  popular  regard.  She  was  still 
the  storied,  picturesque  *'  Nelly"  who  had  been  the  fondly  petted  child 
in  the  household  of  him  who  was  ''  first  in  peace,  first  in  war,  and  first 
in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen." 

When  that  fair,  smooth  brow  of  the  great  artist's  picture  had  been 


40  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

imprinted  with  the  lines  of  threescore  years,  and  those  chistering 
curls  had  changed  their  brown  to  threads  of  snow,  how  she  must  have 
seemed  like  some  saintly  messenger  to  those  who  eagerly  listened  to 
her  as  she  brought  from  memory's  far-away  shore  the  historic  scenes 
which  had  passed  before  those  sparkling  eyes  in  the  heyday  of  her 
youthful  life.  Lorenzo,  her  only  son,  inherited  the  Wood  Lawn 
estate,  and  resided  for  some  years  in  the  mansion.  He  was  married 
to  Esther  Maria  Coxe,  of  Philadelphia,  in  1827,  and  died  in  1847. 
His  widow  survived  him  until  1885.  Of  the  six  children  of  Lorenzo, 
only  one  is  left,  J.  R.  C.  Lewis,  of  Berryville,  Clarke  County,  Virginia. 
In  1845,  the  entire  domain  of  this  estate,  having  been  almost  entirely 
neglected  through  many  years,  presented  a  most  forlorn  appearance. 
Only  here  and  there  a  patch  of  ground  was  under  cultivation, — not  a 
handful  of  grass-seed  was  sown,  not  a  ton  of  hay  cut.  The  fields  were 
overgrown  with  sedge,  brambles,  sassafras,  and  cedars,  and  all  traces  of 
fencing  had  disappeared.  Not  a  white  man  was  living  on  an  acre  of  it. 
Only  a  few  superannuated  slaves  remained  in  some  rickety  cabins, 
and  these  were  subsisting  on  products  from  a  farm  in  another  county. 
The  tax  assessment  was  thirty  dollars  -one  cent  and  a  half  an  acre, 
although  the  buildings  alone  had  cost  near  fifty  thousand  dollars,  just 
forty-three  years  before.  It  was  at  this  period  that  the  New  Jersey 
colony  purchased  the  property  for  $12.50  per  acre,  and  subsequently 
the  whole  tract  was  divided  and  subdivided  into  small  farms,  and  oc- 
cupied by  improving  proprietors.  The  mansion,  substantially  con- 
structed of  old-fashioued  bricks,  having  a  main  building  sixty  by 
forty  feet,  with  wide  halls,  spacious  apartments,  and  ample  wings 
united  by  corridors  to  the  main  portion,  together  with  .sixty  acres 
of  land,  was  recently  pui-chased  by  the  Electric  Railway  Company, 
who  propose  in  the  near  future  to  make  it  the  lower  terminus  of  their 
road,  in  which  event  the  "Old  Mansion"  will  be  faithfully  restored 
to  its  original  beauty,  and  thenceforth  be  kept  as  an  enduring  memo- 
rial of  its  first  mistress,  the  beloved  foster-daughter  of  George  Wash- 
ington. No  more  fitting  place,  we  think,  than  this  could  be  chosen 
by  the  associations  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  "Revolution" 
for  the  holding  of  their  annual  reunions,  and  the  keeping  of  their 
archives  and  historic  mementos  and  relics.  That  would  make  it  a 
desirable  and  attractive  place  of  pilgrimage  in  all  coming  years,  and 
most  effectually  secure  its  perpetual  preservation. 


A' 


WASHINGTON'S    MILL. 

T  the  head  of  Dogue  Creek  Bay  are  the  ruins  of  the  old  stone 


mill  which  in  Washington's  time  ground  all  the  grist  of  the 
grain  products  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate.  'J'he  i)lash  of  the  waters 
over  its  wheel,  and  the  clatter  and  din  of  its  grinding  gear  have  been 
silent  for  threescore  years.  The  raceway  which  led  the  waters  from 
the  pond  far  up  the  valley  across  the  fields  to  turn  the  wheel  are  now 
grazing  grounds  for  cattle  ;  but  the  shaky  tenement  stood  until  the 
beginning  of  the  fifties.     The  stones  of  the  fallen  walls  have  been 


^i-a-%*4- 


^Sffpjl*^-^ 


^.SUu.^^  SS'"'^  ^J^  /, 


(Page  40.) 


(At  three-score-and-teii.) 


Nee  Nelly  Costis. 


" '''^'^■"*'tt7 

■  .sis  •  f    -=^y 


jji'-.  ;•— ,•    ';.a^?'';-- 


-1^ 


-J     — 
o     - 


<        V 
5       ^ 


OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  41 

carted  away  and  used  in  the  foundations  of  houses  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. All  the  meal  fur  the  plantation  hands  over  the  eight  thousand 
acres  was  ground  by  this  mill,  and  cargoes  of  Hour  were  made  by  it 
and  shipi^ed  to  the  West  Indies  and  other  places  in  schooners,  which 
then  came  in  the  deeper  waters,  to  load  at  its  very  doors.  The  picture 
as  given  is  not  an  ideal  of  the  old  structure,  but  a  truthful  representa- 
tion of  it. 

The  locality  of  this  old  mill,  once  known  as  Ep.seewasson,  actjuires 
additional  interest  from  the  very  ])lausible  supposition  that  here  at  the 
head  of  Dogiie  Bay,  so  named  from  an  Indian  tribe  inhabiting  its 
borders,  was  begun  the  first  settlement  and  clearing  of  the  "  Hunting 
Creek"  plantation  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  acres  which  about 
the  year  1670  was  assigned  to  John  Washington,  great-grandfather 
of  the  illustrious  George  Washington,  as  his  share  of  a  joint  patent 
from  Lord  Cul])eper. 

This  John  Washington  died  in  January,  1677.  In  his  will  he  left 
this  plantation  to  his  son  Lawrence,  who  had  made  some  improve- 
ments on  it,  and  at  his  death  bequeathed  it  to  his  son  Augustine,  the 
father  of  the  general.  Augustine  lurther  improved  and  cultivated  the 
plantation  aforesaid,  and  in  the  division  of  his  estate  left  it  by  will 
to  his  eldest  son  by  hi^  first  marriage.  Major  Lawrence  Washington 
and  half-brother  of  (ieorge,  who  married  Annie,  oldest  daughter  of 
William  Fairfax  of  Belvoir. 

The  mill  was  built  by  Washington's  father,  and  in  the  old  house,  as 
shown  near  to  it,  he  and  Mary  the  mother  may  have  been  domiciled 
while  for  four  years  they  were  living  on  the  Hunting  Creek  plantation. 
The  youthful  George  was  then  under  ten  years  of  age.  The  family 
removed  from  the  locality  to  Fredericksburg  in  1739  or  1740.  Seven 
years  later,  at  the  close  of  his  school-days, George  returned  to  live  with 
his  elder  brother  Lawrence,  who  had  built  for  himself  the  middle  or 
main  portion  of  the  present  Mount  Vernon  house. 


WASHINGTON'S   SERVANTS. 

JUST  before  the  war  it  was  not  uncommon  to  read  in  the  newspapers 
the  announcement  of  the  death  of  "  another  of  Washington's  Ser- 
vants. ' '  Then  almost  every  octogenarian  darkey  in  "  Old  Fawfax' ' 
claimed  to  have  belonged  to  "  Mars  Joge,"  and  could  tell  wonderful 
stories  of  old  times  at  Mount  Vernon.  But  of  late  no  mention  has 
been  made  of  these  worthies.  All  of  them  have  passed  over  the 
borders  and  joined  the  ranks  of  the  plantation  armies  beyond.  In 
this  connection  we  cannot  refrain  from  giving  to  the  reader  the  ballad 
of  "Thornton  Gray,"  one  of  "  de  old  sarvants"  whom  the  writer 
once  ii\terviewed,  and  who  was  reputed  to  have  been  an  offshoot  of 
African  royalty. 

lie  was  an  ancient  colored  man, 

His  age  one  hundred  ten  ; 
He  hailed  from  old  Virginy, 

And  once  a  slave  had  been. 


42  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

c  His  hair  was  Ihin  and  silver'd, 

His  brow  with  furrows  set, 
Features  tine  cut  and  mouldeil, 
And  face  as  black  as  jet. 

Jn  olden  times,  the  story  ran, 
'Thai  kings  and  noblemen. 

In  Afric's  sultry  climate, 
His  forefathers  had  been  ; 

And  as  I  gazed  upon  him. 

And  closely  scann'd  his  mien, 

It  seemed  a  trace  of  royalty 
Full  well  might  yet  be  seen. 

He  bow'd  him  low  and  tip'd  his  hat, 

And  laid  aside  his  hoe. 
The  while  I  btiefly  interview'd 

About  the  long  ago. 

"  My  name  is  Thornton  Gray,"  he  said ; 

"  Dey  calls  me  '  Uncle  Thorn,' 
Lived  mos'ly  in  Old  Fairfax, 

In  Wes'mo'land  was  born. 

"  Was  ris  by  Mars'  Wilkers'n, 
Great  farmer,  may  depend  ; 

Own'd  all  de  big  plantation 
Dey  call'd  dc  '  River  Bend.' 

"  Made  heaps  of  fine  tabacca, 
Had  stores  of  corn  and  wheat ; 

Hard  labor,  mind  you ;  but  de  ban's 
Had  plenty  den  to  eat. 

"  Times  ain't  de  same  as  den  dey  was, 
Tears  like  dey's  chang'd  all  round, 

De  folks  dat  lived  when  I  was  young. 
All  dead  and  under  ground. 

"  'Taint  long  I  knows  for  me  to  stay, 
H'^^^-O-'     Xkete-after  all  de  res' ; 

I  only  waits  de  Lord's  good  time, 
Sho'ly  he  knows  de  bes'. 

"  I  soon  shall  yhear  de  trumpeter 
Blow  on  his  trumpet  horn, 

An'  call  me  home  to  glory. 
An'  de  riserickshum  mom." 

My  good  freed  man,  to  him  I  said, 
Of  age,  one  hundred  ten. 

You  might  relate  much  history 
( )f  former  times  and  men. 


I  wait  to  hear  the  story, 

Which  none  can  tell  but  you, 

For  none  have  lived  fivescore  of  years 
And  ten  more  added  to. 


'>^il<S4-   _ 


O'agc  41.) 


THORNTON    liKAY,    ONE   OF    WASHINGTON  S         SARVINTS. 


(Page  42  ) 


DAR  COM     MAKS     GEOG     WASH  NTON.       RUN    CHIL     AN     OPEN    DE   GATE. 


X 

3 
U 

a: 
y 

o 


OF  VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  43 

You  must  have  seen  the  Britishers, 

And  heard  the  cannons  roar ;  , 

"  Why,  bless  you,  chil',  was  nios'  a  man, 
And  heard  and  seen  de  war." 

And  VN'a>liiiij;;ton,  you  must  luivi- seen, 

That  great  and  <joo(l  hero 
W'lio  led  the  Continentalers, 
And  fought  our  battles  through ! 

"  Why  surely  I  has  seen  hirp, 

And  know'd  him  well ;  for,  boss, 
I  was  de  Ciineral's  sarvant. 

Took  care  de  Gineral's  hoss ! 

"  Fine  man  he  was  for  sartin, 

Good  friend  to  all  de  poor — 
Dar's  none  in  dese  days  like  him, 

And  none,  folks  said,  before." 

Enough,  I  said  !   I'm  well  repaid  ; 

And  grasped  his  lreml)ling  hand — 
No  honor  hath  a  man  like  this. 

In  all  our  glorious  land  ! 

No  further  did  I  question  him 

About  the  long  ago. 
And  when  I  said  to  him  good-bye, 

He  took  his  garden  hoe. 

Who  hath  beheld  our  Washington, 

And  lived  to  tell  us  so. 
Deserves  as  well  a  story 

As  many  others  do. 

And  hence  our  homely  ballad, 

A  tribute  slight  to  pay 
To  this  dejjarted  colored  man, 

And  ancient — Thornton  Gray. 


OLD  POHICK  CHURCH. 

FIVE  miles  below  the  Mount  Vernon  mansion,  and  three  miles 
from  the  Potomac,  stands  the  old  Pohick  Church  edifice,  erected 
in  the  year  1772.  It  was  built  from  plans  furnished  by  Washington, 
who  was  a  member  of  its  vestry,  and  a  frequent  attendant  at  its  ser- 
vices. The  eccentric  Mason  L.  Weems,  author  of  a  life  of  Washing- 
ton, and  also  a  life  of  Marion,  and  who  was  as  ready  to  tune  a  fiddle 
as  to  preach  a  sermon,  was  one  of  its  rectors  before  1800.  The  picture 
represents  an  old-time  congregation  after  service. 


V. 


44  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

THE  PASSING  K^N PCi  OF  WASHINGTON. 

"  How  sleep  the  brave  who  sink  to  rest 
With  all  their  country's  honors  blest." 

THERE  came  to  Mount  Vernon  a  bleak,  forbidding  winter  day, 
December  13,  1799.  Washington  was  engaged  in  planning  and 
superintending  some  improvements  on  his  estate  which  occupied  his 
presence  till  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  when,  on  returning  to  the 
mansion,  he  complained  of  cold  and  a*  sore  throat,  havigg  been  wet 
through  by  mists  and  chilling  rain.  He  passed  the  night  with 
feverish  excitement,  and  his  ailment  increased  in  intensity  during 
the  next  day  and  until  midnight,  when,  surrounded  by  his  sorrowing 
household  and  the  medical  attendant,  he  passed  gently  and  serenely 
from  the  scenes  of  earth  to  the  realities  of  the  great  unknown.  He 
was  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  His  faculties  were  strong  and 
unimpaired  to  the  last.  He  was  conscious  from  the  first  of  his  malady, 
that  his  end  was  near,  and  he  awaited  the  issue  with  great  composure 
and  self-possession.  '•  I  am  going,"  he  observed  to  those  around  him. 
"But  I  have  no  fears."  His  mission  had  been  well  and  nobly 
accomplished.  His  great  life-work,  whose  influences  will  reach  to  the 
remotest  periods  of  time,  was  accomplished. 

At  the  supreme  mordent  Mrs.  Washington  sat  in  silent  grief  at  his 
bedside.  "Is  he  gone?"  she  asked  in  a  firm  and  collected  voice. 
The  physician,  unable  to  speak,  gave  a  silent  signal  of  assent.  "  'Tis 
well,"  she  added  in  the  same  untremulous  utterance;  "all  is  over 
now.  I  shall  soon  follow  him  ;  I  have  no  more  trials  to  pass  through." 
She  followed  three  years  later.  They  both  rest  side  by  side  in  the  new 
burial  vault  at  the  old  homestead  by  the  river. 

The  following  quaint  announcements  of  Washington's  death  from 
the  newspapers  of  this  locality  will  be  of  interest : 

The  Georgetown  Centinel  of  Liberty,  a  semi-weekly,  in  its  issue  of 
December  17,  1799,  thus  announces  Washington's  death:  "  It  is  our 
painful  duty  first  to  announce  to  the  country  and  the  world  the  death 
of  General  George  Washington.  This  mournful  event  occurred  on 
Saturday  evening  about  eleven  o'clock.  On  the  preceding  night  he  was 
attacked  with  a  violent  inflammatory  affection  of  the  throat,  which  in 
less  than  twenty-four  hours  put  a  period  to  his  life.  If  a  long  life 
devoted  to  the  most  important  public  services ;  if  the  most  eminent 
usefulness,  true  greatness,  and  consummate  glory ;  if  being  an  honor 
to  our  race  and  a  model  to  future  ages  ;  if  all  these  could  rationally 
suppress  our  grief,  never  perhaps  ought  we  to  mourn  so  little.  But  as 
they  are  the  most  powerful  motives  to  gratitude,  attachment,  and  ven- 
eration-for  the  living  and  of  sorrow  at  their  departure,  never  ought 
America  and  the  world  to  mourn  more  than  on  this  melancholy 
occasion." 

The  Alexafidria  Times  and  District  of  Columbia  Advertiser,  of 
Friday,  December  20,  1799,  of  which  one-half  sheet  is  all  that  is 
known  to  be  in  existence,  thus  annoimced  Wa.shington's  death  and 
funeral :    "  The  effect  of  the  sudden  news  of  his  death  upon  the  inhabi- 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


45 


tants  of  Alexandria  can  better  be  conceived  than  expressed.  At  first 
a  general  disorder,  wildness,  and  consternation  jjervaded  the  town. 
The  tale  appeared  as  an  illusory  dream,  as  the  raving  of  a  sickly  imagi- 
nation. But  these  impressions  soon  gave  place  to  sensations  of  the 
most  poignant  sorrow  and  extreme  regret.  On  Monday  and  Wednes- 
day the  stores  were  all  closed  and  all  business  suspended,  as  if  each 
family  had  lost  its  father.  From  the  time  of  his  death  to  the  time  of 
his  interment  the  bells  continued  to  toll,  the  shipping  in  the  harbor 
wore  their  colors  half-mast  high,  and  every  public  expression  of  grief 
was  observed.  On  \Vednesday,  the  inhabitants  of  the  town,  of  the 
county,  and  the  adjacent  parts  of  Maryland  proceeded  to  Mount 
Vernon  to  perform  the  la,st  offices  to  the  body  of  their  illustrious 
neighbor.  All  the  military  within  a  considerable  distance  and  three 
Masonic  lodges  were  present.  The  concourse  of  people  was  immense. 
Till  the  time  of  interment  the  corpse  was  placed  on  the  portico  front- 
ing the  river,  that  every  citizen  might  have  an  opportunity  of  taking 
a  last  farewell  of  the  departed  benefactor." 

WASHINGTON'S     BIRTHDAY    AND     BIRTHNIGHT 
BALL. — February  22,  1732. 

What  day  is  this  of  proud  acclaim, 

Of  rolling  drum  and  trumpet  strain, 
And  banners  floating  on  the  breeze, 

And  cannon  booming  loud  again  ? 

A  people  come  with  grateful  praise, 

And  hearts  in  unison, 
As  well  befits  to  celebrate 

The  birth  of  Washington  I 

From  East  and  West  and  North  and  South, 

Throughout  our  broad  domain. 
The  plaudits  of  a  nation  swell 

O'er  mountain,  hill,  and  plain. 

Not  for  ambition's  selfish  deeds — 

Not  for  the  conq'ror's  name. 
This  day  the  glorious  meed  is  given, 

But  for  the  nobler  fame, 

By  man  world  wide  accorded 

And  grander  grown  b\-  time — 
The  fame  that  comes  of  duty 

And  life  of  deeds  sublime. 

AT  the  close  of  the  Revolution  commenced  the  birthday  celebra- 
tions and  birthnight  balls  in  honor  of  the  successful  chief. 
They  soon  became  general  all  over  the  republic.  The  first  of  these 
was  heM  in  Alexandria. 

In  the  large  cities  where  public  balls  were  customary,  the  birthnight 
ball  in  the  olden  time  was  the  gala  assembly  of  the  season,  and  was 
attended  by  an  array  of  fashion  and  beauty. 

The  first  President  always  attended  on  the  birthnight.  The  eti- 
quette w^as  not  to  open  the  festivities  until  the  arrival  of  him  in  whose 


46  SOME   OLD  IlfSTORfC  LANDMARKS 

honor  it  was  given  ;  Ixit  so  remarkable  was  tlie  punctuality  of  Wash- 
ington in  all  his  engagements,  whether  for  business  or  pleasure,  that 
he  was  never  waited  for  a  moment  in  appointments  for  either. 

The  minuet,  now  obsolete,  for  the  graceful  and  elegant  dancing  of 
which  Washington  was  conspicuous,  in  the  vice-regal  days  of  Lord 
Eotetortin  Virginia,  declined  after  the  Revolution.  The  commander- 
in-chief  danced  for  his  last  time  a  minuet  in  1781  at  the  ball  given  in 
Fredericksburg  in  honor  of  the  French  and  American  officers  on  their 
return  from  the  triumphs  of  Yorktown.  The  last  birthnight  he 
attended  was  in  Alexandria,  February  22,  1798.  He  always  appeared 
to  enjoy  the  gay  and  festive  scenes  of  those  occasion,  remaining  till  a 
late  hour  with  the  participants,  his  neighbors  and  friends;  for,  re- 
markable as  he  was  for  reserve,  and  the  dignified  gravity  inseparable 
from  his  nature,  he  ever  looked  with  most  kind  and  favoring  eye  upon 
the  rational  and  elegant  pleasures  of  life. 

WASHINGTON'S     HABITS,     MANNERS,    AND     AP- 
PEARANCE. 

THE  work  which  Washington  accomplished  in  the  course  of  his 
public  and  private  duties  was  simply  immense.  And  when  we 
estimate  the  volume  of  his  official  papers, — his  vast  foreign,  public, 
and  private  correspondence, — we  can  scarcely  believe  that  the  space  of 
one  man's  life  could  have  comprehended  the  performance  of  so  many 
varied  things.  But  he  brought  order,  method;  and  rigid  system  to 
help  him.  These  accessories  he  relied  on,  and  they  led  him  success- 
fully through.  He  rose  early.  His  toilet  was  soon  made.  A  single 
servant  prepared  his  clothes  and  laid  them  in  readiness.  He  shaved 
and  dressed  himself,  but  gave  very  little  of  his  precious  time  to  mat- 
ters of  that  sort,  though  remarkable  for  the  neatness  and  propriety  of 
his  apparel.  His  clothes  were  made  after  the  old-fashioned  cut,  of 
the  best  though  of  the  plainest  materials.  The  style  of  his  household 
and  equipage  when  President  corresponded  with  the  dignity  of  his 
exalted  station.  About  sunrise  he  invaria])ly  visited  and  inspected  his 
stables.  Then  he  betook  himself  to  his  library  till  the  hour  of  break- 
fast. This  meal  was  plain  and  simple,  and  with  but  little  change, 
from  time  to  time.  Indian  cakes,  honey,  and  tea  formed  this  tem- 
perate repast.  On  rising  from  the  table,  if  there  were  guests,  and  it 
was  seldom  otherwise,  l)Ooks  and  papers  were  offered  for  their  amuse- 
ments, and  recjuesting  them  to  take  care  of  themselves  the  illustrious 
farmer  proceeded  to  his  daily  tour  over  his  farms.  He  rode  over  them 
unattended,  opening  the  gates,  letting  down  and  putting  up  bars  as 
he  visited  his  laborers,  and  inspected  their  operations.  He  was  a 
progressive  farmer  and  introduced  many  new  methods  in  the  tillage  of 
his  lands.  His  afternoon  was  usually  devoted  to  his  library.  At  night 
his  labors  over,  he  \vould  join  his  family  and  friends  at  the  tea-table 
and  enjoy  their  society  for  several  hours,  and  about  nine  o'clock 
retired  to  bed.  When  without  company  he  frequently  read  aloud  to 
his  family  circle  from  newspapers  and  entertaining  books. 

Washington  liked  the  cheerful  converse  of  the  social  board.     After 


OF   /VA'O/.W./   ./.\7>    MARYLAND. 


47 


his  retirement  from  public  life,  all  the  time  he  could  spare  from  his 
library  was  devoted  to  the  improvement  of  his  estate  and  the  elegant 
and  tasteful  arrangement  of  his  house  and  grounds.  The  awe  that 
was  felt  by  every  one  upon  the  first  approach  to  Washington  evidences 
the  imposing  power  and  sublimity  which  belongs  to  real  greatness. 
Even  the  frequenters  of  the  courts  of  princes  were  sensible  of  this 
exalted  feeling  when  in  the  presence  of  the  hero,  who,  formed  for  the 
highest  destinies,  bore  an  impress  from  nature  which  declared  him  to 
be  one  among  the  noblest  of  her  worVs. 

Washington  at  the  age  of  forty-three  was  appointed  commander-in- 
chief.  In  stature  he  a  little  exceeded  six  feet ;  his  limbs  were  sinewy 
and  well-proportioned  ;  his  chest  broad  ;  his  figure  stately,  blending 
dignity  of  i)resence  with  ease.  His  robust  constitution  had  been 
tried  and  invigorated  by  his  early  life  in  the  wilderness,  his  habit  of 
occupation  out-of-dcJors,  and  his  rigid  temperance  ;  so  that  fewetpialled 
him  in  strength  of  arm  or  power  of  endurance.  His  complexion  was 
florid  ;  his  hair  dark  brown  ;  his  head  in  its  shape  perfectly  round. 
His  broad  nostrils  seemed  formed  to  give  expression  and  escape  to 
scornful  anger.  His  dark  blue  eyes,  which  were  deejjly  set,  had  an 
expression  of  resignation,  and  an  earnestness  that  was  almost  sadne-ss. 

THE    FIRST    CELEBRATION     OF    THE    ADOPTION 
OF  THE    FEDERAL    CONSTITUTION. 

IT  is  remarkable  that  the  first  report  of  a  celebration  in  Alexandria 
in  any  way  connected  with  national  affairs  was  reported  by  no 
less  a  hand  than  that  of  General  George  Washington.  When  the 
news  reached  that  city  that  the  requisite  nine  States  had  acceded  to 
the  Federal  Constitution,  the  people  of  Alexandria  immediately  ordered 
a  festival,  and  Washington,  after  attending  it,  addressed  his  friend, 
Charles  Pinckney,  under  date  of  Mount  Vernon,  June  28,  1788,  as 
follows : 

"No  sooner  had  the  citizens  of  Alexandria,  who  are  Federal  to  a 
man.  received  the  intelligence  by  the  mail  last  night,  than  they  de- 
termined to  devote  the  day  to  festivity.  But  their  exhilaration  was 
greatly  increased,  and  a  much  keener  zest  given  to  their  enjoyments,  by 
the  arrival  of  an  express,  two  hours  before  day,  ^vith  the  news  that  the 
Convention  of  New  Hampshire  had,  on  the  21st  instant,  acceded  to 
the  new  confederacy  by  a  majority  of  eleven  voices.  Thus  the 
citizens  of  Alexandria  when  convened  constituted  the  first  assembly 
in  America  who  had  the  pleasure  of  pouring  a  libation  to  the  pros- 
perity of  the  ten  States  which  had  already  adopted  the  general  gov- 
ernment;" and.  after  speculating  upon  the  course  of  the  remaining 
States,  he  added  :  '•  I  have  just  returned  from  assisting  at  the  enter- 
tainmeht."  These  citizens  had  a  dinner  at  the  City  Hotel,  which  is 
still  standing. 


48  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

A  SUMMARY  OF  WASHINGTON. 

Nobles  are  made  by  patents, 

Which  kings  and  queens  bestow, — 
Of  such  the  names  of  thousands. 

The  books  of  lineage  show. 

But  only  nature's  patent 

Can  give  the  noble  aim. 
To  true  nobility  of  purpose, 

She  only  gives  the  claim. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  whether  as  a  private  citizen,  mingling 
with  his  neighbors  and  friends  in  a  social  or  business  capacity, 
or  whether  as  a  dignified  actor  and  director  in  the  public  and  national 
affairs  of  his  country,  is  one  of  the  very  few  men  in  the  records  of 
history  who  have  successfully  and  triumphantly,  withstood  the  test 
and  scrutiny  of  the  world's  adverse  criticism.  He  stands  out  on  the 
shifting  scenes  of  the  world's  annals  as  a  grandly  imjjosing  and  unique 
jjersonage,  meriting  and  commanding  as  well,  the  veneration  of  every 
observer,  no  matter  of  what  country  or  nationality, — and  the  citizens 
of  the  country  he  loved  and  defended,  in  their  enthusiasm  and  grati- 
tude for  his  brilliant  public  services,  love  to  contemplate  him  as  a 
personage  divinely  ordained  and  appointed  to  open  the  way,  not  only 
for  civil  and  religious  liberty  in  America,  but  everywhere  among  the 
oppressed  of  humanity. 

He  was  not  a  soldier  because  of  his  fondness  for  tinsel,  parade,  or 
mere  military  glory,  but  because  of  the  exigencies  of  the  times  in 
which  he  lived.  After  these  exigencies  had  passed,  he  gladly  yielded 
up  all  investiture  of  military  authority  and  dropped  back  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  calm  delights  of  peace  and  quietude  in  his  rural  retreat, 
not  sighing,  as  many  a  warrior  had  done  before  him,  that  there  were 
no  more  campaigns  to  direct,  no  more  victories  to  achieve,  but  re- 
joicing in  the  coming  of  the  blessed  reign  of  peace.  His  mission  as 
a  soldier  had  been  grandly  accomplished,  and  he  was  well  content  to 
await  its  beneficent  results. 

As  a  victor  he  was  magnanimous,  lenient,  and  forbearing — never 
vaunted  of  his  military  prowess ;  and  of  all  the  pictorial  representa- 
tions which  adorned  his  rooms  at  ISIount  Vernon,  not  one  of  them 
rejjresented  any  of  the  revolutionary  scenes  in  which  he  had  figured. 

There  have  been  soldiers  who  have  achieved  mightier  victories  in 
tlie  field,  and  made  conquests  more  nearly  corresponding  to  the  bound- 
lessness of  selfish  ambition ;  statesmen  who  have  been  connected  with 
more  startling  upheavals  of  society;  but  it  is  the  greatness  of  Wash- 
ington, that  in  public  trusts  he  used  power  solely  for  the  public  good ; 
that  he  was  the  life,  and  moderator,  and  stay  of  the  most  momentous 
revolution  in  human  affairs ;  its  moving  impulse  and  its  restraining 
power.  Combining  the  centripetal  and  the  centrifugal  forces  in  their 
utmost  strength,  and  in  perfect  relations,  with  creative  grandeur  of 
instinct,  he  held  ruin  in  check,  and  renewed  and  perfected  the  institu- 
tions of  his  country.  Finding  the  colonies  disconnected  and  dependent, 
he  left  them  such  a  united  and  well-ordered  commonwealth  as  no 
visionary  had  believed  to  be  possible.  So  that  it  has  been  truly  said, 
"  he  was  as  fortunate  as  great  and  good."     This  also  is  the  praise 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


49 


of  Washington,  that  never  in  the  tide  of  time  has  any  man  lived  who 
had  in  so  great  a  degree  the  ahiiost  divine  faculty  to  command  the 
confidence  .of  his  fellow-men  and  rule  the  willing.  Wherever  he 
became  known,  in  his  family,  his  neighborhood,  his  county,  his  native 
State,  the  continent,  the  camp,  civil  life,  the  United  States,  among 
the  common  people,  in  foreign  courts,  throughout  the  civilized  world 
of  the  human  race,  and  even  among  the  savages,  he,  beyond  all  other 
men,  had  the  confidence  of  his  kind." 

On  the  sixteenth  of  June,  1775,  he  appeared  in  his  place  in  Con- 
gress, after  his  appointment  as  commander-in-chief  of  the  colonial 
armies,  and  after  refusing  all  ])ay  beyond  his  expenses,  he  spoke  with 
unfeigned  modesty  to  his  colleagues, — "As  the  Congress  desire  it,  I 
will  enter  upon  the  momentous  duty,  and  exert  every  power  I  possess 
in  their  service  and  for  the  support  of  the  glorious  cause.  But  I  beg 
it  may  be  remembered  by  every  gentleman  in  the  room  that  I  this  day 
declare,  with  the  utmost  sincerity,  I  do  not  think  myself  equal  to  the 
command  1  am  honored  with." 

Washington  was  not  a  bigot  nor  a  zealot  in  religion,  nor  even  a 
sectarian.  "  Profoundly  impressed  with  confidence  in  God's  i)rovi- 
dence,  and  exemi)lary  in  his  respect  for  the  forms  of  public  worshijj, 
no  philosopher  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  more  firm  in  the  support 
of  freedom  of  religious  opinion  ;  but  belief  in  God  and  trust  in  His 
overruling  power  formed  the  essence  of  his  character.  He  believed 
that  wisdom  not  only  illumines  the  spirit,  but  inspires  the  will.  He 
was  a  man  of  action,  and  not  of  .theory  or  words.  His  creed  appears 
in  his  life,  not  in  his  professions.  His  whole  being  was  one  continued 
act  of  faith  in  the  eternal,  intelligent,  moral  order  of  the  universe. 
His  broad  and  liberal  conceptions  of  what  constituted  the  basis  of  a 
common  fatherhood  and  a  common  brotherhood  would  not  allow  of 
any  narrowing  or  dwarfing  of  his  natural  convictions  l)y  the  trammels 
of  religious  dogmas  or  formulas,  and  so  he  was  tolerant  of  the  fullest 
religious  liberty  and  thought,  believing  that  every  man  had  the  right 
implanted  in  him  by  the  God  of  nature  to  worship  Him  in  whatever 
way  seemed  to  him  best,  conseiiuently  the  creed  of  no  church  ever 
held  him  exclusively  within  its  narrow  limits.  His  true  and  tried 
friends  were  confined  to  no  religious  denomination,  but  were  chosen 
from  the  widest  range  of  religious  thought,  and  selected  only  for  real 
worth  and  integrity,  of  character.  As  his  diary  bears  witness,  he  was 
accustomed  to  attendance  at  all  forms  of  worship,  and  doubtless  he 
always  found  something  in  each  which  his  unprejudiced  judgment 
could  approve  and  accept.  In  his  neighborhood  no  churches  existed 
but  the  Episcopal.  These  the  laws  of  the  colony  had  established,  to 
the  prejudice  of  all  others,  and  made  respectable,  and  it  was  quite 
natural,  from  his  reverential  and  orderly  habits,  that  he  should  have 
been  a  habitual  attendant  at  their  services  with  his  neighbors  ;  and 
while  he  was  one  of  the  vestry  in  the  church  of  both  Alexandria  and 
Pohick,  he  doubtless  busied  himself  very  little  about  vestry  matters, 
further  than  to  fill  the  numerical  requirements."  * 

*  In  those  times  the  duties  of  the  church  vestry  embraced  not  only  religious  matters 
but  also  many  secular  neighborhood  affairs,  requiring  the  judgment  of  just  such  a  practi- 
cal man  as  Washington. 

4 

\ 


^o  SOME    OLD   HISTORIC  LA.VDMARA'S 

He  appears  to  have  been  so  impressed  with  the  importance  of  lis- 
tening to  the  inward  monitor,  or,  as  the  Quakers  are  wont  to  express 
it,  "  the  still,  small  voice,"  that  in  his  rules  of  civility  and  behavior, 
written  out  by  him  for  his  guidance  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  enjoined 
upon  himself  "  to  labor  to  keep  alive  in  his  breast  that  little  spark  of 
celestial  fire  called  conscience."  At  that  early  age  his  code  of  rules 
show  that  he  had  determined  to  begin  life  right,  and  the  story  of  all 
his  subseipient  years  is  evidence  that  he  continued  right.  The  germs 
of  innate  goodness  and  excellence  had  been  implanted  in  his  being, 
and,  through  wise  ])arental  solicitude  and  instruction  and  a  strict 
obedience  to  duty,  they  steadily  and  beautifully  unfolded  to  public 
observation  and  admiration  with  the  passing  of  the  years  of  his  life. 
The  pole-star  of  his  impulses  and  the  drift  of  his  being  were  right 
and  duty  ;  to  these  everything  was  subordinate.  He  read  correctly 
the  motives  of  men  and  measured  accurately  their  capabilities,  and 
rarely  erred  in  his  estimate  of  character.  He  was  frank  in  his  inter- 
course,— never  dissembled,  never  stooped  to  mean  devices  or  subter- 
fuges. While  he  was  open  and  courteous,  fraternal  and  ap])roachable, 
he  was  never  trivial,  never  forgot  his  dignity,  but  always,  whatever 
the  occasion,  so  demeaned  himself  as  to  inspire  every  one  with  whom 
he  came  into  contact,  whether  socially  or  in  a  business  way,  with  the 
feelino:  that  he  was  one  of  the  verv  first  of  men  among  men.  He  was 
not  an  orator,  and  seldom  attempted  to  e.xpress  himself  at  length  on 
any  public  occasion,  but  as  a  writer  he  e.xcelled.  His  style,  as  pre- 
served in  many  volumes  of  miscellaneous  letters  and  state  papers,  was 
plain,  clear,  and  without  unnecessary  verbiage,  and  his  expressions 
were  rarely  marred  by  instances  of  false  syntax,  though  he  had  never 
had  the  advantages  of  more  than  a  very  limited  common  school  edu- 
cation ;  but  from  his  youth  upward  he  had  been  a  constant  and  atten- 
tive reader  of  the  best  literature  of  the  times,  and  was  very  observant 
of  acknowledged  models  of  the  English  language. 

In  all  his  busine.ss  transactions,  and  they  were  many  and  varied,  no 
instance  has  been  recorded  by  any  writer  of  any  attempt  on  his  part 
to  get  the  advantage  of  any  of  his  fellows.  He  was  a  fast  friend  and 
a  patron  of  merit.  He  recognized  the  divinity  of  labor,  and  be- 
lieved that  it  should  be  respected  and  fully  requited.  True,  he  was  a 
slave-holder,  but  it  was  for  the  reason  that  labor  was  urgently  needed 
in  those  times  to  open  and  subdue  the  wilderness,  produce  supplies, 
and  develop  the  great  resources  of  the  country ;  but  he  did  not  look 
upon  his  bondsmen  as  mere  machines,  devoid  of  feelings  or  sensi- 
bilities. There  is  the  most  authentic  evidence  that  he  looked  most 
carefully  after  their  welfare  in  res|)ect  to  diet,  raiment,  quarters,  and 
seasons  of  toil ;  had  them  taught  habits  of  industry,  provided  medical 
attendance  for  them  in  sickness,  allowed  them  religious  instruction, 
and  by  his  last  bequest,  made  July  9,  1799,  ordered  that  they  should 
all  be  freed.  And  it  is  but  just  to  mention  in  this  connection  that 
from  no  one  of  his  freed  folks  or  their  immediate  descendants  has 
there  ever  been  heard  any  instance  of  unnecessary  .severities  under  his 
benign  rule  as  a  master. 

The  estate  was  large  and   land  for  tillage  was    plenty,  and  every 


OF   VIRGIXrA  AXD  MARYLAND.  51 

family  had  ample  privileges  of  having  plots  of  ground  for  growing  all 
kinds  of  vegetables,  while  fish  were  abundant  in  the  river  and  creeks, 
and  wild  game  plenty  in  the  woods. 

In  I  786,  he  wrote  to  Robert  Morris,  "  There  is  not  a  man  living  who 
wishes  more  sincerely  than  I  do  to  see  a  plan  adopted  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery.  But  there  is  only  one  ])roi)er  and  eflectual  mode  by  which 
it  can  be  accomplished,  and  that  is  by  legislative  authority  :  and  this, 
as  far  as  my  suffrage  will  go,  shall  never  be  wanting."  And  in  another 
letter,  written  to  his  nephew,  Robert  Lewis,  August  17,  1799,  '^""'' 
months  before  his  death,  he  says,  "  I  have  more  negroes  on  my  estate 
of  Mount  \'ernon  than  can  be  employed  to  any  advantage  in  the  firm- 
ing system  ;  and  I  shall  never  turn  planter  thereon.  To  sell  the  over- 
l)lus  I  cannot,  because  I  am  princii)led  against  that  kind  of  traffic  in 
the  human  species.  To  hire  them  out  is  almost  as  bad,  because  they 
cannot  be  disposed  of  in  families  to  any  advantage;  and  to  disperse 
the  families  I  have  an  aversion." 

\\\  a  letter  to  John  F.  Mercer,  of  Virginia,  September,  1786,  he 
wrote,  "  I  never  mean,  unless  some  particular  circumstances  should 
compel  me  to  it,  to  i)Ossess  another  slave  by  ])urchase,  it  being  among 
my  first  wishes  to  see  some  plan  adopted  by  which  slavery  in  this 
country  may  be  abolished  by  law."  Martha,  his  widow,  in  1801, 
manumitted  all  the  slaves  she  held  in  her  ow-n  right. 

The  relation  of  the  African  race  to  our  nation,  Washington  repre- 
sented. He  was  not  a  radical  reformer,  not  an  ideal  theorist,  but  a 
practical  thinker  and  actor,  and  as  such,  he  interpreted  the  African's 
destiny.  He  recognized  his  capacity  to  be  a  tiller  of  the  soil  and  a 
mechanic,  and  treated  him  kindly;  and  taught  and  practised  the  prin- 
ciple of  emancipation.  He  regarded  slavery,  indeed,  as  the  law  of 
the  land,  and  denied  the  right  of  any  citizen  to  interfere  with  the 
legal  claims  of  the  master  to  his  slave,  but  he  thought  the  law  ought 
to  be  changed,  and  he  stands  in  our  history  as  the  representative  of 
the  old  school  of  emancipationists  who  regarded  slavery  as  a  fading 
relic  of  a  semi-civilized  form  of  society.  He  could  work  with  the 
negro  and  mingle  praise  with  blame  in  his  judgments,  and,  Avithout 
having  extreme  opinions  of  their  gifts  or  virtues,  he  thought  them  fitted 
for  freedom  and  capable  of  education. 

He  was  methodical  in  all  his  undertakings  and  pursuits,  no  matter 
of  how  commonplace.  Kept  a  diary  of  ordinary  as  well  as  extraor- 
dinary events,  and  noted  down  regularly  from  day  to  day  his  expendi- 
tures, whether  incurred  for  household  necessities,  raiment,  the 
carrying  on  of  his  farm  arrangements,  or  for  travelling.  His  hand- 
writing, from  his  characteristic  order  and  care,  was  invariably  neat 
and  legible,  whether  he  wrote  a  state  paper,  a  letter  to  some  home  or 
foreign  dignitary,  or  whether  he  wrote  a  deed  for  the  conveyance  of 
land,  or  an  order  on  his  merchant,  or  a  receipt  to  his  mechanic,  every 
letter  was  well  formed  and  distinct,  so  that  it  never  required,  as  is  too 
often  the  case  with  public  men,  much  time  to  decipher  his  meaning. 

As  a  farmer,  he  was  not  content  to  merely  follow  the  modes  which 
had  long  prevaileil  with  the  planters  around  him,  but  at  a  very  early 
period  of  his  farming  ojjcrations  he  i)ut  into  practice  new  and  more 


^2  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

advantageous  systems  of  cropping  and  manuring ;  laid  down  his  land 
to  grass;  jilanted  out  orchards  of  the  best  fruits  then  obtainable; 
employed  the  newest  agricultural  im]ilenients,  and  had  a  constant  care 
to  obtain  the  best  seeds  and  the  most  improved  stock.  Washington 
was  a  farmer  by  choice  and  because  he  believed  the  "  calling  to  be  the 
most  healthful,  the  most  useful,  and  the  noblest  employment  of  man." 
He  might  have  entered  many  avenues  opened  for  him  when  a  young 
man  whiih  would  have  led  him  to  distinction,  for  he  had  that  within 
him  which  would  have  insured  success  whatever  the  undertaking.  Ijut 
the  quietude  and  peaceful  surroundings  of  a  rural  life  were  niore  in 
keeping  with  his  natural  inclinations  than  the  circumstances  of  other 
pursuits,  which  to  many  of  the  young  men  now  coming  up  around  us 
seem  far  more  attractive. 

He  was  domestic  in  his  habits,  and  loved  the  peace,  the  tranquillity, 
and  joys  of  home  life.  And  we  most  delight  to  dwell  on  the  i)art  of 
the  history  of  this  great  man  which  jiictures  that  life — the  life  he  led 
as  a  plain,  unpretending  citizen  of  the  republic  he  had  been  so  instru- 
mental in  establishing.  What  to  a  man  of  the  finer  sensibilities  is  the 
tinselry  and  show  and  power  of  a  public  life  when  comi)ared  with 
genial  minds  and  with  nature  clothed  in  the  simi)le  and  beautiful  garb 
of  truth  ?  Of  all  men,  none  could  appreciate  the  difference  better  than 
Washington.  "I  am  now,  I  believe,"  he  writes  in  a  letter  from 
Mount  Vernon,  "fixed  in  this  seat,  and  I  hope  to  find  more  happi- 
ness in  retirement  than  I  ever  experienced  in  the  wide  and  bustling 
world." 

His  hospitality  was  large,  and  his  generosities  and  charities  wide- 
reaching.  No  one  was  more  ready  to  acknowledge  an  error  of  heart 
or  judgment,  nor  more  magnanimous  to  those  differing  in  opinions. 

We  do  not  claim  that  he  was  perfect,  for  perfection  in  humanity  is 
impossible.  We  only  claim  for  him  that  he  came  as  near  to  filling  the 
measure  of  the  "  noblest  work  of  God"  as  any  other  man  in  history. 
And  certainly  no  character  in  all  its  aspects  or  bearings  is  more 
worthy  of  emulation  by  the  youth  of  our  country  than  his.  His 
closing  scene  on  the  fourteenth  of  Deceml^er,  1799,  was  peaceful,  and 
a  grateful  people  mourned  for  him  as  a  father  indeed. 


GUNSTON— THE  HOME  OF  GEORGE  MASON. 

'Twas  an  old  colonial  palace, 

Ere  that  brazen  boom 
Thunder'd  freedom  from  the  State  House 

Thro'  the  thrilling  land. 
In  those  days  it  was  a  great  house, 

Spacious,  feudal,  grand. 

THE  next  place  of  historic  interest  below  Belvoir  is  Gunston,  an 
estate  once  containing  seven  thousand  acres,  the  home  of 
George  Mason,  who  is  known  in  history  as  the  author  of  Virginia's 
Bill  of  Rights  and  her  Constitution  ;  and  who  served  as  one  of  her 
earlier  governors.      He  came  of  a  distinguished  and  honored  English 


(Page  52.) 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


53 


stock.  He  was  fifth  in  descent  from  that  George  Mason,  the  first  of 
the  family  in  Virginia,  who  was  a  member  of  the  British  Parhament 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  and  who  opposed  with  eloquence  the  arbi- 
trary measures  of  the  king,  but  at  the  commencement  of  the  civil 
war  drew  his  sword  in  his  favor  against  the  soldiers  of  Cromwell,  and 
afterwards  commanded  a  regiment  under  Charles  II.  at  the  battle  of 
Worcester,  and  later,  in  disguise  escaped  to  Virginia,  the  refuge  of 
many  distinguished  royalists,  and  landed  in  the  county  of  Norfolk  in 
165 1.  Comparatively  little  has  been  written  of  the  career  of  the 
George  Mason  of  our  sketch.  It  lives  rather  in  tradition  than  in  the 
pages  of  history.  Such  a  fact  is  unworthy  of  his  countrymen.  He 
married  Ann  Eilbeck,  of  Charles  County,  Maryland,  who  died  at  the 
age  of  thirty-nine.  After  many  years  he  married  a  latly  of  the  name 
of  Brent,  but  of  this  union  there  was  no  issue.  He  was  one  of  the 
best  and  purest  men  of  his  time,  and  posse.ssed  the  confidence  of 
those  younger  civilians,  Jefferson,  Madison,  and  Monroe,  whose  opin- 
ions he  did  much  to  mould  and  shape  along  the  lines  which  led  to 
American  independence.  He  was  a  near  neighbor  to  Washington 
and  the  Fairfaxes,  and  on  the  most  intimate  tejrms  with  them.  In 
1776  we  find  him  writing  to  his  agent  in  London  a  i)owerful  state- 
ment of  the  wrongs  inflicted  by  the  mother  government  upon  the 
colonies ;  and  about  the  same  time  appeared  his  masterly  exposition 
of  "colonial  rights,"  entitled  "Extracts  from  the  Virginia  charters, 
with  remarks  ujjon  them."  In  1769  he  drafted  the  "Articles  of 
Association"  against  importing  British  goods,  which  the  Burgesses 
signed  in  a  body  on  their  dissolution  by  Lord  Botetourt ;  and  in 
1774  he  drew  up  the  celebrated  Fairfax  County  Resolutions,  ujjon  the 
attitude  to  be  assumed  by  Virginia.  In  1776  he  was  elected  to  repre- 
sent his  county  in  the  convention  of  that  year,  and  drew  up  the  "  Bill 
of  Rights"  already  alluded  to,  which  was  adopted.  Jefferson,  then  in 
Philadeli)hia,  had  written  "  a  preamble  and  sketch"  to  be  offered  ;  but 
Mason's  had  been  reported,  and  the  final  vote  was  about  to  be  taken 
when  it  arrived.  Mason's. bill  was  therefore  adopted,  but  Jefferson's 
"  preamble"  was  attached  to  the  Constitution.  Mason  sat  afterwards 
in  the  Assembly,  and  supported  Jefferson  in  his  great  reforms  of  the 
organic  laws,  as  the  cutting  off  of  entails,  the  al)olishing  of  primo- 
geniture, and  the  overthrow  of  church  establishments.  The  disinter- 
ested public  spirit  of  the  man  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  by 
birth  and  education,  he  belonged  to  the  dominant  class  and  to  the 
Episcojjal  Church.  He  also  advocated  the  bill  forl)idding  the  further 
importation  of  slaves  in  1778,  and  ten  years  afterwards  sat  in  the  Con- 
vention to  decide  on  the  adoption  or  rejection  of  the  Federal  Consti- 
tution. He  was  elected  one  of  the  senators  for  Virginia,  but  declined 
the  honor  on  account  of  pressing  home  duties.  He  continued  to  re- 
side oivhis  Gunston  estate,  contented  and  happy,  though  suffering  at 
times  from  attacks  of  gout,  an  hereditary  enemy.  His  death  occurred 
in  1792,  at  the  age  of  sixty-six,  and  his  remains,  unmarked  by  stone 
or  tablet,  rest  in  the  (zunston  family  Ijurial-place,  but  in  the  much 
admired  group  of  sculptured  heroes  and  statesmen  which  adorns  State 
House  Square  in  Richmond  his  statue  is  conspicuous. 


54  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  life  of  a  remarkable  man,  whose 
services  to  his  State  were  almost  inestimable.  He  was  deficient  in 
powers  of  oratory  ;  but,  like  Jefferson,  who  shared  the  same  disability, 
was  all  powerful  with  the  pen.  The  ''  I'.ill  of  Rights"  will  live  longer 
than  the  elocpience  of  Patrick  Henry,  however,  for  it  stands  as  it  was 
written,  while  the  utterances  of  the  great  prophet  of  the  Revolution 
are  even  now  fading  from  the  memories  of  men.  The  "Bill  of 
Rights"  is  enough  to  perpetuate  the  fame  of  its  author  in  the  absence 
of  all  other  memorials  of  his  life.  It  is  a  great  and  masterly  state- 
ment of  constitutional  rights,  and  remains  to-day,  as  it  ever  will,  the 
corner-stone  of  republican  government.  Derived  in  a  measure  from 
Mason's  long  and  jirofound  study  of  the  great  writers  of  England 
upon  constitutional  freedom,  it  was  yet,  in  the  comprehensive  sense, 
entirely  original,  for  he  infused  into  it  the  free  spirit  of  the  New 
World.  From  all  the  great  and  noble  men  who  were  then  prominent 
in  public  affairs,  the  Fairfax  County  planter  was  selected  to  perform 
this  important  work,  and  the  fact  is  an  incontestable  proof  of  the 
favorable  light  in  which  his  contemporaries  regarded  the  character  of 
his  mind  and  his  genius. 

In  social  life  (ieorge  Mason  showed  to  great  advantage.  Though 
somewhat  stately  and  formal  in  his  bearing,  no  man  was  more  engag- 
ing in  deportment  towards  his  friends,  and  no  friends  were  warmer 
than  his  own.  In  person  he  was  rather  above  the  medium  height,  full 
in  form,  and  with  a  courtly  and  erect  figure.  His  statue  represents 
him  correctly, — in  full  court  dress,  with  ample  ruffles,  and  looking 
composedly  and  serenely  forward.  It  is  the  look  of  a  man  who 
"knows  his  rights,"  and,  "knowing,  dare  maintain,"  whatever 
dangers  stand  in  the  path  or  threaten  his  vindication  of  them.  Few 
of  our  people  are  aware  of  how  much  of  our  republican  faith  has 
come  down  to  us  from  George  Mason  and  his  Virginia  company, 
wrought  out  in  the  stormy  days  of  the  Revolution. 

The  Gunston  estate  is  separated  from  F.elvoir  by  Accotink  Bay.  It 
has  been  divided  and  sul)divided  since  the  time  of  its  distinguished 
proprietor  into  many  small  farms,  now  mostly  owned  and  occupied  by 
Northern  settlers.  The  mansion,  Iniilt  in  the  year  1739  by  the  sub- 
ject of  our  sketch,  is  one  of  the  very  few  types  of  the  best  order  of 
houses  of  the  early  colonial  days  which  have  escaped  the  ravages  of 
time  and  the  brand  of  the  incendiary.  Its  massive,  well-cemented 
walls  of  ])ricks  brought  from  Old  England  by  tobacco  ships,  and  its 
interior  structures  of  wainscoting  and  panelling,  and  other  work  of 
the  joiner,  have  continued  through  the  many  generations  almost  intact. 
Gunston  Hall  was  built  after  the  old  manor-house  of  the  Mason  family 
in  England.  It  is  about  eighty  feet  in  length  by  forty  in  width,  and 
is  a  more  pretentious  structure  than  that  of  Mount  Vernon.  The  old- 
fashioned  wide  hall  and  the  spacious  parlors  are  carved  tastefully  and 
minutely.  In  the  year  1742  there  was  shipped  from  the  landing  of 
this  estate  twenty-two  thousand  bushels  of  wheat  and  five  large  cargoes 
of  tobacco,  packed  in  the  old-fashioned  hogsheads. 

Gunston   has  furnished   three   United   States  senators  and   several 
members  of  Congress ;  and  after  Mount  Vernon  is,  without  doubt,  the 


c 
z 


j  t'M'M:^ 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND. 


55 


most  historic  home  in  Virginia.     The  following  lines  were  written  by 
a  sojourner  under  its  roof  on  a  Christmas  night  a  few  years  ago  : 

I  sat  in  Gunston  Hall; — 
(irim  shadows  on  the  wall 

Arounil  nie  pressed, 
As  memories  of  the  past  ^ 

Came  crowding  thick  and  fast, 
And  to  my  mind,  at  last, 

Their  theme  addressed. 

Hack  from  the  shadowy  land 
They  pressed,  a  noble  band, 

A  stalwart  race;  — 
I  saw  them  come  and  go,  .  , 

As  if  they  thought  to  show 
Their  stately  grandeur  to 

My  mind  apace. 

From  wall  and  ceiling  high, 
And  ancient  panel  nigh. 

Their  faces  showed ; 
I  marked  them,  one  and  all. 
Majestic,  grand,  and  tall. 
As  from  the  corniced  wall 

Iheir  shadows  strode. 

Then  hall  and  mansion  wide 
They  tilled  on  every  side, 

With  phantoms  grand ; 
While,  at  the  outer  gate, 
Pressed  carriages  of  state, 
With  spectral  steeds  to  mate 

The  shadowy  band. 

I  saw  the  hearth-stones  blaze, 
As  in  colonial  daj-s. 

At  this  old  hall ; 
With  beauty  flashing  high. 
And  gallants  thronging  nigh, 
As  if  some  love-lit  eye 

Held  them  in  thrall. 

They  seemed  to  grow  apace 
Like  old  Antenor's  race, 

Of  Trojan  fame ; 
Or  men  of  lofty  state. 
On  whom  the  good  and  great 
Bestowed  their  utmost  weight 

( )f  honored  name. 


V- 


Then  prouder  forms  were  seen. 
Of  more  majestic  mien, — 

Those  grand  old  knights. 
Whose  sires  at  Runnymede        • 
Stocked  England  with  a  breed 
Of  men  that  made  kings  heed 

Their  subjects'  rights. 


5 6  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

'-  Their  spectral  grandeur  showed 

In  every  step  they  trode 
Through  ancient  hall, 
While  women  held  their  place 
'-  Su]ireme  in  every  grace 

With  which  the  Ciotliic  race 
Invests  them  all. 

Each  captive  husband  vied, 
With  lover  by  his  side. 

To  own  her  sway, 
Who  practised  less  the  art 
To  win  than  keep  a  heart 
That  once  to  Cupid's  dart 

Had  fallen  prey! 

f 

While  wives  with  sweethearts  strove 
To  keep  the  torch  of  love 

In  constant  flame, 
That,  like  sweet  Omphale, 
They  might  retain  their  sway, 
And  yet  their  lords  obey 

By  rightful  claim. 

So  passed  the  shadowy  throng, 
In  misty  group  along. 

As  fancy  played, 
Or  pictured,  one  by  one, 
These  spectral  scenes  upon 
My  mind,  as  night  wore  on 

With  deepening  shade. 

And  as  my  eyelids  fell 
They  grew  more  palpable — 

These  spectres  grand, 
That  still,  in  Gunston  Hall, 
Hold  nightly  carnival, 
As  fancy  stirs  withal 

Her  conjurer's  wand. 

The  eldest  son  of  George  Mason  the  fifth,  the  subject  of  our  sketch, 
was  George  of  "Lexington,"  a  captain  in  the  Revohitionary  Army, 
and  succeeded  his  father  at  his  death,  in  1792,  to  the  j^ossession  of 
Gunston  Hall,  and  was  the  last  of  the  name  that  ever  lived  there.  He 
left  five  sons  and  four  daughters,  all  of  whom  married  and  had  issue. 
The  fourth  and  last  surviving  son  was  John  Mason,  of  Analastan  Island, 
the  father  of  James  Murray  Mason,  who  was  from  1847  to  1S61  United 
States  Senator  from  Virginia. 

With  Slidell  he  figured  in  the  Trent  affair,  and  was  afterwards  Con- 
federate commissioner  in  England.  He  was  the  only  direct  descendant 
ever  in  the  upper  house  of  Congress. 

The  eldest  daugliter  of  John  Mason  became  the  wife  of  the  late 
Samuel  Cooper,  formerly  in  the  Federal  service,  and  afterwards 
Adjutant-General  of  the  Confederate  Army.  Another  daughter  mar- 
ried S.  Smith  Lee,  brother  of  Robert  E.  Lee,  and  was  the  mother  of 
Governor  Fitzhugh  Lee. 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  57 


THE    INAUGURATION    OF    WASHINGTON. 

"  TT  would  seem,  from  all  we  have  learned  of  Washington's  early  and 

_|_  later  career,  that  Providence  had  specially  appointed  him  by 
birth  and  education  to  be  the  leader  and  director  in  the  Western  world 
of  the  revolution  which  was  to  open  the  way  for  the  founding  there 
of  a  new  and  a  free  English-speaking  nation.  Every  factor,  whether 
of  lineage  or  culture,  in  his  admirably  balanced  character  as  well  as 
every  aspiration  of  his  heart  from  his  cradle  to  his  grave  is  of  exceed- 
ing great  interest  to  the  world.  Although  deprived  of  a  father's  care 
at  the  age  of  eleven  years,  he  was,  however,  especially  blest  in  having 
such  a  mother  as  the  noble  Mary  Washington,  who  conscientiously 
discharged  her  sacred  duty  as  his  guardian,  counsellor,  and  friend. 
Hence,  filial  reverence  grew  with  his  growth  and  strengthened  with  his 
maturing  years  into  fixed  principles,  making  him  throughout  all  his 
eventful  life  loyal  to  every  virtue  and  heroic  in  every  trust.  He 
seems  to  have  had  no  idle  boy  life,  but  was  a  man  with  manly  instincts 
and  ambitions  from  his  youth." 

There  came  a  sunshiny  day  in  April,  1789,  w'hen  George  Washing- 
ton, President-elect  of  the  United  States  by  the  unanimous  voice  of 
the  people,  stood  on  a  balcony  in  front  of  the  Senate  Chamber  in  the 
old  Federal  Hall  on  Wall  Street,  to  take  the  oath  of  ofiiice.  An  im- 
mense multitude  filled  the  streets  and  the  windows  and  roofs  of  the 
adjoining  houses. 

Clad  in  a  suit  of  dark  brown  cloth  of  American  manufacture,  with 
hair  powdered,  and  wnth  white  silk  stockings,  silver  shoe-buckles,  and 
steel-hilted  dre.ss  sword,  the  hero  who  had  led  the  colonies  to  their 
independence  came  modestly  forward  to  take  up  the  burdens  that 
peace  had  brought.  Profound  silence  fell  upon  the  multitude  as 
Washington  responded  solemnly  to  the  reading  of  the  oath  of  office, 
"■  I  swear — so  help  me,  God." 

Then,  amid  cheers,  the  display  of  flags,  and  the  ringing  of  all  the 
bells  in  the  city,  our  first  President  turned  to  face  the  duties  his  country- 
men had  imposed  uj^on  him.  In  sight  of  those  who  would  have  made 
an  idol  of  him,  Washington's  first  act  was  to  seek  the  aid  of  other 
strength  than  his  own.  In  the  calm  sunshine  of  that  April  afternoon, 
fragrant  with  the  presence  of  seed-time  and  the  promise  of  harvest, 
we  leave  him  on  his  knees  in  Old  St.  Paul's,  bowed  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  child  at  the  feet  of  the  Supreme  Kuler  of  the  universe. 

MARY,  THE    MOTHER. 

YCJU  have  reared  this  beautiful  obelisk  to  one  who  was  "  the  light 
^of  the  dwelling"  in  a  plain  rural  colonial  home.  Her  history 
hovers  around  it.  She  was  wife,  mother,  and  widow.  She  nursed  a  hero 
at  her  breast.  At  her  knee  she  trained  to  the  love  and  fear  of  God 
and  to  the  kingly  virtues,  honor,  truth,  and  valor,  the  lion  of  the 
tribe  that  gave  to  America  liberty  and  independence.  This  is  her 
title  to  renown.     It  is  enough. 


5 8  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

Eternal  dignity  and  heavenly  grace  dwell  upon  the  brow  of  this 
blessed  mother  ;  nor  burnished  gold  nor  sculptured  stone  nor  rhyth- 
mic praise  could  add  one  jot  or  tittle  to  her  chaste  glory.  She  was 
simply  a  private  citizen.  No  sovereign's  crown  rested  on  her  brow. 
She  did  not  lead  an  army,  like  Joan  of  Arc,  or  slay  a  tyrant,  like 
Charlotte  Corday.  She  was  not  versed  in  letters  or  in  arts.  She  was 
not  an  angel  of  mercy,  like  Florence  Nightingale,  nor  the  consort  of 
a  hero,  like  the  mother  of  Napoleon.  But  for  the  light  that  streamed 
from  the  deeds  of  him  she  bore,  we  would  doubtless  have  never  heard 
the  name  of  Mary  Washington,  and  the  grass  that  grew  upon  this 
grave  had  not  been  disturbed  by  curious  footsteps  or  reverential  hands. 
— Danie/'  s  Oration. 

MARY    WASHINGTON. 

THE  Rappahannock  ran  in  the  reign  of  good  Queen  Anne, 
All  townless  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea, 
Old  Jamestown  was  forlorn  and  King  \\  illiamsburg  scarce  bom  — 

'Twas  the  year  of  Blenheim's  victory, 
Whose  trumpets  died  away  in  far  Virginia 

On  the  cabin  of  an  old  tobacco  fann, 
Where  a  planter's  little  wife  to  a  little  girl  gave  life, 
And  the  fire  in  the  chimney  made  it  warm. 

It  was  little  Mary  Ball,  and  she  had  no  fame  at  all. 

But  the  world  was  all  the  same  as  if  she  had  ; 
For  she  had  the  right  to  breathe  and  to  tottle  and  to  teethe, 

And  to  love  some  other  cunning  little  lad  : 
Though  he  proved  a  widower,  it  was  all  the  same  to  her. 

For  he  gave  her  many  a  daughter  and  a  son, 
And  the  family  was  large  and  the  oldest,  little  George, 

Was  the  hope  of  little  Widow  Washington. 

The  name  resounded  not  in  the  time  we  have  forgot, 

It  was  nothing  more  than  Smith  or  Jones  or  Ball ; 
And  George's  big  half-brothers  had  the  call  on  their  stepmother's 

Affection,  like  the  babes  of  her  own  stall ; 
They  paid  the  larger  taxes,  and  the  Ayletts  and  f^airfaxes 

Received  them  in  their  families  and  lands, 
While  the  widow  thought  upon  it,  she  rode  in  her  sunbonnet, 

Midst  her  slaves  who  tilled  her  gulleys  and  her  sands. 

Till  they  sought  to  take  her  George  upon  the  royal  barge. 

And  give  him  a  commission  and  a  crest, 
When  her  heart  cried  out,  "  O,  no  I     Something  says  he  must  not  go ; 

My  first-born  is  a  father  to  the  rest." 
She  could  find  him  little  schooling,  but  he  did  not  learn  much  fooling, 

And  he  dragged  the  mountains  o'er  with  chain  and  rod. 
The  Blue  Ridge  was  his  cover  and  the  Indian  his  lover 

And  his  Duty  was  his  Sovereign  and  God. 

Still  her  rival  in  his  heart  was  the  militarj-  art, 

And  the  epaulettes  she  dreaded  still  were  there. 
There  are  households  still  where  glor)-  is  a  broken-hearted  story, 

And  the  drum  is  a  mockery  and  snare. 
Yrom  the  far-off  Barbadoes,  from  the  yell  of  Frenchmen  foes, 

From  the  ghost  of  Braddock's  unavailing  strife, 
She  beheld  her  boy  return  and  his  bridal  candles  burn. 

And  a  widow  like  herself  became  his  w-ife. 


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3 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND   MARYLAND.  59 

By  Potomac's  pleasant  tide  he  was  settled  with  his  bride, 

Overseeing  horses,  hounds  and  cocks  and  wards, 
And  it  seemed  but  second  nature  to  go  to  the  legislature 

And  play  his  hand  at  politics  and  cards. 
Threescore  and  ten  had  come  when  the  widow  heard  the  drum. 

"  My  God  I"  she  cried,  "  what  demon  is  at  large  '" 
'Tis  the  conflict  with  the  king,  'tis  two  worlds  a  mustering. 

And  the  call  of  Duty  comes  to  mother's  Cieorge. 

"O  war  I     To  plague  me  so!      Must  my  first-bom  ever  go?" 

Her  answer  is  the  bugle  and  the  gun. 
The  town  tills  up  again  with  the  horse  of  Mercer's  men, 

And  the  name  they  call  aloud  is  Washington. 
In  the  long,  distracting  years  none  may  count  the  widow's  tears  : 

She  is  banished  o'er  the  mountains  from  her  farm  ; 
She  is  old  and  lives  with  strangers,  while  ride  wide  the  king's  red  rangers, 

And  the  only  word  is  "  Arm  I"  and  "  Arm  I"  and  "  Ann  !" 

"  Come  home  and  see  your  son,  the  immortal  Washington, 

He  has  beat  the  king  and  mighty  Cornwallis  I" 
They  ciowd  her  little  door  and  she  sees  her  boy  once  more ; 

Hut  there  is  no  glory  in  him  like  his  kiss. 
The  marquises  and  dukes,  in  their  orders  and  perukes. 

The  aides-de-camp,  the  generals  and  all. 
Stand  by  to  see  and  listen  how  her  aged  eyes  will  gli.sten 

To  hear  from  him  the  tale  of  Yorktown's  fall. 

Upon  that  her  lips  are  dumb  to  the  trumpet  and  the  drum ; 

All  their  pageantry  is  vanity  and  stuff. 
So  he  leans  upon  her  breast  she  cares  nothing  for  the  rest — 

It  is  he  and  that  is  victory  enough  I 
In  the  life  that  mothers  give  is  their  thirst  that  man  shall  live 

And  the  species  never  lose  the  legacy. 
To  love  again  on  earth  and  repeat  the  wondrous  birth — 

That  is  glory — that  is  immortality. 

Unto  Fredericksburg  at  last,  when  her  fourscore  years  are  past. 

Now  gray  himself,  he  rides  all  night  to  say  : 
"  Madame — mother — ere  I  went  to  become  the  President 

I  have  come  to  kiss  you  till  another  day." 
"  No,  f  leorge ;  the  sight  of  thee,  which  I  can  hardly  see. 

Is  all  for  all — good-by  ;   I  can  be  brave. 
Fulfil  your  great  career  as  I  have  fulfilled  my  sphere ; 

My  station  can  be  nothing  but  the  grave.'' 

The  mother's  love  .sank  down,  and  its  sunset  on  his  crown 
Shone  like  the  dying  beams  of  perfect  day  ; 
^  He  has  none  like  her  to  mix  in  the  draught  of  politics 

The  balm  that  softens  injury  away. 
But  he  was  his  mother's  son  till  his  weary  race  was  done ; 

Her  gravity,  her  peace,  her  golden  mien 
Shed  on  the  state  the  good  of  her  sterling  womanhood, 
.A.nd  like  her  own  w^as  (leorge's  closing  scene. 

George  Alfred  Townsend. 

WASHINGTON'S    BARN. 

WASHINGTON  had  an  inventive  as  well  as  a  systematic  and 
thorough  turn  of  mind,  and  was  always  devising  some  new 
and  better  method  for  the  lessening  of  the  labors  of  the  hands  on  his 
estate.      He  greatly  improved  many  of  the  unwieldy  implements  then 


6o  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

in  use,  such  as  ploughs,  harrows,  hoes,  and  axes  ;  for  he  had  carpenter, 
smith,  and  smithy  always  at  hand  to  materialize  his  ideas. 

His  circular,  or  sixteen-sided,  barn  of  brick  and  frame,  sixty  feet  in 
diameter,  with  two  stories,  was  the  wonder  of  his  neighbors.  The 
threshing  or  treading-out  floor,  ten  feet  wide,  was  in  the  second  story, 
all  round  the  centre  mows ;  and  the  oxen  or  horses  were  taken  up  to 
it  by  an  inclined  plane.  The  floor  of  it  was  of  open  slats,  that  the 
grains  might,  without  the  straw,  fall  through  to  the  floor  below.  Later, 
he  had  constructed  a  device,  worked  by  horse-power,  by  which  the 
heads  of  wheat  sheaves,  held  on  a  table  against  rapidly-revolving  arms, 
were  beaten  out ;  and  was  probably  the  first  step,  after  the  hoof  and 
flail,  towards  the  jjower-thresher  of  the  present  day. 


WASHINGTON'S    COACH. 

MADE  in  England,  1789.  The  body  and  wheels  were  of  cream 
color,  then  very  fashionable,  with  gilt  relief,  and  the  body 
was  suspended  upon  the  old-fashioned,  heavy,  leathern  straps,  like 
those  of  the  former-day  stage-coaches.  Part  of  the  sides  and  front 
were  shaded  by  green  Venetian  blinds,  enclosed  by  black  leather  cur- 
tains. The  lining  was  of  black,  glossy  leather.  The  Washington 
arms  were  handsomely  painted  on  the  doors,  with  the  characteristic 
motto,  "■  Exitus,  acta  probat,'" — the  result  proves  actions.  Upon 
each  of  the  four  panels  of  the  coach  was  a  picture  of  the  four  seasons. 
Usually,  the  General  drove  but  four  horses,  but  on  going  from  Mount 
Vernon  to  the  seat  of  government,  at  Philadelphia  or  New  York,  he 
drove  six. 

DESCENT    OF    MOUNT    VERNON. 

JUDGE  BUSHROD  WASHINGTON,  who  inherited  Mount  Ver- 
non from  his  uncle,  General  Washington,  was  the  third  child  of 
John  Augustine  Washington  and  his  wife  Hannah,  daughter  of 
Colonel  John  Bushrod,  of  Westmoreland  County,  Va.  He  came  into 
full  possession  of  the  estate  after  the  demise  of  Mrs.  Martha  Wash- 
ington, widow  of  the  general,  which  occurred  May  22,  1802.  Judge 
Washington  was  a  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
and  resided  at  Mount  Vernon,  dispensing  a  liberal  hospitality,  a#ti 
keeping  intact  his  inherited  landed  estate  to  the  time  of  his  death. 
He  was  married  in  1785  to  Anna,  daughter  of  Colonel  Thomas  Black- 
burn, of  Rippon  Lodge,  Prince  William  County,  Va.  They  had  no 
children.  He  made  a  will,  and,  following  the  example  of  his  illus- 
trious uncle,  he  provided  for  his  wife  during  her  life  and  then  dispo.sed 
of  his  estate  to  his  nephews  and  nieces,  giving  specific  directions,  and 
leaving  the  mansion  house  and  the  Mount  Vernon  farm  proper,  with 
restricted  bounds,  which  he  specifically  defined,  to  his  nephew,  John 
Augustine  Washington,  from  whom  the  Ladies'  Association  purchased. 


/^      Z-rfx-'i-'A.^-^  e^j^  't4'\JL~   3:lr'Cx^\^  ^  /l/^A-'a-A^t-u*^,./*^^:*^ 


/ 


OF   VIRGINIA  AND  MARYLAND.  6 1 


EXTRACTS    FROM  WASHINGTON'S    DIARY. 

1774- 

WENT  to  Pohick  Chunh  with  Mr.  Custis. 
Went  to  the  barbecue  at  Accotink. 

Colonel    Pendleton,  Mr.  Henry,  and  Colonel   Mason   came  in  the 
evening  and  stayed  all  night. 

Colonel    Pendleton,  Mr.  Henry,  anil    I   set  out   on  our  journey  to 
Philadelphia  to  attend  the  Congress. 

Dined  with  Mr.  Pleasants  (a  Quaker). 

Dined  with  Joseph  Peml)erton  (a  (Quaker). 

Went  to  Quaker  meeting  in  the  forenoon,  and  to  St.  Peter's  in  the 
afternoon. 

Went  to  Christ  Church,  and  dined  at  the  New  Tavern. 

Went   to   the  Presbyterian   meeting   in  the  forenoon,  and    to   the 
Romish  church  in  the  afternoon. 

Went  to  Christ  Church  in  the  afternoon. 

Dined  at  the  New  Tavern  with   the   Pennsylvania  Assembly,  and 
went  to  the  Ball  afterwards. 


1773- 

May  I.     Went  fishing  in  Broad  Creek. 

April   13,  1774.     In   company  with  Colonel   Bassett  went  fishing 
in  Broad  Creek. 


A  LOVE   SONNET  OF  WASHINGTON   AT  THE  AGE 
OF  SIXTEEN,   FROM   HIS   DIARY. 

OH  ye  gods,  why  should  my  poor  resistless  heart 
Stand  to  oppose  thy  might  and  power, 
At  last  surrender  to  Cupid's  fealher'd  dart, 

And  now  lays.bleeding  every  hour 
For  her  that's  pitiless  of  my  grief  and  woes. 

And  will  not  on  me  pity  take. 
He  sleeps  amongst  my  most  inveterate  foes, 

And  with  gladness  never  wish  to  wake. 
^  In  deluding  sleepings  let  my  eyeliils  close, 

^  That  in  an  enraptured  dream  I  may 

In  a  soft,  lulling  sleep  and  gentle  repose 

Possess  those  joys  denied  by  day. 
From  your  bright,  sparkling  eyes  I  was  undone  ; 
Rays  you  have  ;  more  transparent  than  the  sun, 
Amidst  its  glory  in  the  rising  day 
None  can  you  equal  in  your  bright  arra)- ; 
Constant  in  your  calm  and  unspotted  mind  ; 
Equal  to  all,  but  will  to  none  ]irove  kind, 
So  knowing,  seldom  one  so  young,  you'll  find. 
Ah  !   woe's  me,  that  I  should  love  and  conceal. 
Long  have  I  wish'd,  but  never  dare  reveal. 
Even  though  severely  love's  pains  I  feel  : 
Xerxes  that  great,  wast  free  frt)m  Cupid's  dart. 
And  all  the  greatest  heroes  felt  the  smart. 


V- 


62  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 


A  LOVE    LETTER  WRITTEN  AT   SIXTEEN,  FROM 

HIS  DIARY. 

DEAR  SALLY, — This  comes  to  Fredericksburg  fair  in  hopes  of 
meeting  with  a  speedy  passage  to  you  if  your  not  there,  which 
hope  you'l  get  shortly,  altho  I  am  ahnost  discouraged  from  writing  to 
you,  as  this  is  my  fourth  to  you  since  I  received  any  from  yourself. 
I  hope  you'l  not  make  the  old  proverb  good,  out  of  sight  out  of 
mind,  as  its  one  of  the  greatest  pleasures  I  can  yet  forsee  of  having 
in  Fairfax,  in  often  hearing  from  you,  hope  you'l  not  deny  me. 

I  pass  the  time  much  more  agreeably  than  what  I  imagined  I  should, 
as  there's  a  very  agreeable  young  lady  lives  in  the  same  house  where 
I  reside  (Colonel  George  Fairfax's  wife's  sister),  that  in  a  great  meas- 
ure cheats  my  sorrow  and  dejectedness,  tho  not  so  as  to  draw  my 
thoughts  altogether  from  your  parts.  I  could  wish  to  be  with  you 
down  there  with  all  my  heart,  but  as  a  thing  almost  impracticable 
shall  rest  myself  where  I  am  with  hopes  of  shortly  having  some  min- 
utes of  your  transactions  in  your  i)arts  which  will  be  very  welcomely 
received  by  your 

Geo.   W. 

COLONEL  WASHINGTON,  OF  MOUNT  VERNON. 

OWING  to  the  death,  some  years  before,  of  Lawrence  Washington's 
only  child,  Sarah,  followed  as  it  shortly  after  was  by  that  of 
his  widow  Annie,  Colonel  George  Washington,  already  proprietor  of 
the  paternal  estate  on  the  Rappahannock,  had  inherited,  with  much 
additional  property,  the  magnificent  domain  of  Mount  Vernon,  and 
was  now  one  of  the  wealthiest  planters  of  the  Old  Dominion.  Wash- 
ington's fondness  for  agricultural  pursuits  had  not  been  the  only 
motive  of  his  retirement.  The  harassing  cares  of  his  command  had 
not  exerted  a  complete  monopoly  of  his  thoughts  during  this  prolonged 
period  of  Indian  warfare.  The  romantic  traditions  of  his  courtship  it 
is  unnecessary  to  recall  here.  On  the  seventeenth  of  January,  1759, 
he  was  married  to  Mrs.  Custis,  a  very  young  and  wealthy  widow,  who 
formerly  had  been  the  most  attractive  belle  at  the  vice-regal  court  of 
Williamsburg.  The  ceremony  was  performed,  amid  a  joyous  assem- 
blage of  relatives  and  friends,  at  the  White  Hbuse,  the  bride's  home, 
where  they  remained  until  the  trees  were  budding  at  Mount  Vernon, 
when  they  took  up  their  permanent  residence  there.  Washington  at 
this  time  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  I  am  now,  I  believe,  fixed  in  this  .seat, 
with  an  agreeable  partner  for  life,  and  I  hope  to  find  more  happiness 
in  retirement  than  I  evi,r  experienced  in  the  wide  and  bustling  world. 
No  estate  in  America  is  more  j^lea-santly  situated.  In  a 
high  and  healthy  country  ;  in  a  latitude  between  the  extremes  of  heat 
and  cold  ;  on  one  of  the  finest  rivers  in  the  world — a  river  well  stocked 
with  various  kinds  of  fish  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  The  borders  of 
the  estate  are  washed  by  more  than  ten  miles  of  tidewater.  The 
whole  shore  is  one  entire  fishery."     The  whole   region  thereabout, 


OF   VIRGINIA   AND  MARYLAND.  63 

with   its  range  of   forests  and   hills   and    picturesque    promontories, 
afforded  sport  of  various  kinds,  and  was  a  noble  hunting-ground. 

These  were,  as  yet,  the  aristocratical  days  of  Virginia.  The  estates 
were  large,  and  continued  in  the  same  families  by  entail.  A  style  of 
living  prevailed  which  has  long  since  faded  away.  The  houses,  liberal 
in  all  their  appointments,  were  fitted  to  cope  with  the  free-handed, 
open-hearted  hospitality  of  the  owners.  Each  estate  was  a  little 
empire,  and  its  mansion-house  the  seat  of  government,  where  the 
planter  ruled  supreme.  The  negro  quarters  formed  a  hamlet  apart. 
Among  the  slaves  were  artificers  of  all  kinds,  so  that  a  plantation  pro- 
duced within  itself  everything  for  ordinary  use.  Articles  of  fashion 
and  elegance,  luxuries  and  expensive  clothing  were  inqjorted  Irom 
London,  for  the  planters  on  the  Potomac  carried  on  an  immediate 
trade  with  England.  Their  tobacco,  put  up  by  their  own  negroes, 
bore  their  own  marks,  and  was  ship])ed  directly  to  their  agents  in 
Liverpool  or  Bristol.  But  have  not  all  these  things  been  chronicled 
in  the  annals  of  the  house  of  Castlewood  ? 

Washington,  instead  of  trusting  to  overseers,  gave  his  personal 
attention  to  every  detail  of  the  management  of  his  estate.  He  car- 
ried into  his  rural  affairs  the  same  method,  activity,  and  circumspec- 
tion that  had  distinguished  him  in  military  life.  He  made  a  complete 
survey  of  his  lands,  apportioned  them  into  farms,  and  regulated  the 
cultivation  of  all.  The  products  of  his  estate  became  so  noted  for 
the  faithfulness — as  to  quality  and  quantity — with  which  they  were 
put  up,  that  it  is  stated  that  any  barrel  of  flour  that  l)ore  the  brand  of 
George  Washington,  Mount  Vernon,  was  exempted  from  the  customary 
inspection  in  the  ports  to  which  it  was  sent.  There  were  many  re- 
laxations in  the  arduous  duties  he  had  assumed.  He  delighted  in  the 
chase.  In  the  height  of  the  sea.son  he  would  be  out  with  the  fox 
hounds  two  or  three  times  a  week,  accompanied  by  his  guests  and  the 
gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood,  and  ending  the  day  with  a  hunting 
dinner,  when  he  is  said  to  have  enjoyed  himself  with  unwonted 
hilarity.  He  also  greatly  relished  duck-shooting,  in  which  he  was 
celebrated  for  his  skill.  The  Potomac  was  the  scene  of  considerable 
aquatic  state  at  that  time,  and  Washington  had  his  barge,  rowed  by 
six  uniformed  negroes,  to  visit  his  friends  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the 
river.  He  had  his  chariot  and  four,  with  black  postilions  in  livery, 
for  the  use  of  Mrs.  Washington  and  her  lady  visitors.  As  for  himself 
he  always  appeared  on  horseback.  His  stable  was  well  filled  and 
admirably  regulated — his  stud  all  thoroughbred.  Occasionally  he  and 
Mrs.  Washington  would  pay  a  visit  to  Annapolis,  and  partake  of  the 
gaieties  which  prevailed  during  the  sessions  of  the  legislature. 

In  this  round  of  rural  occupation,  rural  amusements,  and  social 
intercourse,  Washington  passed  many  tranquil  years,  the  halcyon  sea- 
son o^  his  life.  His  already  established  reputation  drew  many  visitors 
to  Mount  Vernon,  who  were  sure  to  l)e  received  with  cordial  hospi- 
tality. His  marriage  was  unblessed  with  children,  l)ut  those  of  Mrs. 
Washington  received  from  him  parental  care  and  affection.  His 
domestic  concerns  were  never  permitted  to  interfere  with  his  public 
duties.     As  judge  of  the  county  court,  and  member  of  the  House  of 


64  SOME   OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

Burgesses,  he  had  numerous  calls  upon  his  time  and  ihoughts  ;  for 
whatever  trust  he  undertook,  he  was  sure  to  fulfil  with  scrupulous 
exactness. 

The  Commander-in-Chief. 

The  storm  of  the  Revolution,  so  long  impending,  had  suddenly 
burst  over  the  land,  and  Washington,  who  had  rejiresented  Virginia 
in  the  First  Continental  Congress,  and  was  now  a  member  of  the 
second,  was  by  it,  June  15,  1775,  unanimously  called  to  the  command 
of  the  colonial  army.  On  the  20th  he  received  his  commission,  and 
the  following  day  started  for  Boston  on  horseback  to  take  command. 
"  There  is  something  charming  to  me  in  the  conduct  of  Washington," 
wrote  John  Adams  at  the  time.  "A  gentleman  of  one  of  the  first 
fortunes  on  the  continent,  leaving  his  delicious  retirement,  his  family 
and  friends,  sacrificing  his  ease  and  hazarding  all  in  the  cause  of  his 
country.  His  views  are  noble  and  disinterested."  And  Mrs.  Adams 
wrote  on  his  arrival  before  Boston,  "  Dignity,  ease,  and  complacency, 
the  gentleman  and  the  soldier,  are  agreeably  blended  in  him.  Modesty 
marks  every  feature  of  his  face."  The  honors  with  which  he  was 
received  only  told  him  how  much  was  expected  from  him,  and  when 
he  looked  around  u{)on  the  raw  and  rustic  levies  he  was  to  com- 
mand, "a  mixed  multitude  of  people,  without  discipline,  order,  or 
government,"  .scattered  about  in  rough  encampments,  beleaguering  a 
city  garrisoned  by  an  army  of  veteran  troops,  with  ships  of  war  in  its 
harbor,  he  felt  the  awful  responsibility  of  his  situation,  and  the  com- 
plicated and  stupendous  task  before  him.  "The  cause  of  my  country," 
he  wrote,  "  has  called  me  to  an  active  and  dangerous  duty,  but  I  trust 
that  Divine  Providence  will  enable  mc  to  discharge  it  with  fidelity  and 
success.''  With  what  unswerving  and  untiring  fidelity,  and  with  what 
complete  and  splendid  ultimate  success — despite  disaster,  mutiny, 
faithlessness,  and  treachery  in  those  most  trusted,  privations  without 
parallel,  difficulties  such  as  never  leaders  encountered  before,  bitter 
rivalries,  the  opposition  of  Congress,  and  the  loss  of  confidence,  as 
once  wellnigh  seemed,  of  a  whole  people — Washington,  never  falter- 
ing, discharged  his  trust  during  the  long,  weary  years  that  followed 
needs  no  repetition  here.  There  are  no  better  known  pages  in  the 
world's  history. 

At  Mount  Vernon  Again. 

Having  resigned  his  commission  to  the  Congress  at  Annapolis 
(December  23,  17S3),  Washington  hastened  to  his  beloved  Mount 
Vernon,  arriving  on  Christmas  Eve  in  a  frame  of  mind  well  suited  to 
enjoy  the  festival.  "  I  feel  now,"  he  wrote,  "  as  I  conceive  a  weary 
traveller  must  do,  who,  after  treading  many  a  weary  step  with  a  heavy 
burden  on  his  shoulders,  is  eased  of  the  labor,  having  reached  the 
haven  to  which  all  the  former  were  directed."  And  again:  "The 
scene  is  at  last  closed.  I  am  now  a  ]irivate  citizen  on  the  banks  of 
the  Potomac.  I  feel  myself  eased  of  a  load  of  public  care.  With 
heartfelt  satisfaction  will  I  tread  the  paths  of  private  life;  and  this 
being  the  order  of  my  life,  I  will  move  gently  down  the  stream  of  life 


OF   VIRGINf.i  AND  MARYLAND.  "  65 

until  I  sleep  with  my  fathers."  Throiighi)ut  the  whole  of  his  cam- 
paigns he  had  kept  himself  informed  of  the  course  of  rural  affairs  at 
Mount  ^'ernon.  By  means  of  maps,  on  which  every  field  was  laid 
down  and  numbered,  he  was  enabled  to  give  minute  directions  as  to 
their  cultivation.  Now  he  gladly  resumed  the  direct  management. 
His  diaries  show  how  diligently  he  improved  the  groves  and  shrubbery 
about  the  hou.se.  At  the  opening  of  the  year  he  transjjlanted  ivy 
under  the  walls  of  the  garden  (to  which  it  still  clings),  i)lanted  hemlock 
trees,  and  sowed  holly  berries  in  a  semicircle  around  the  lawn,  many 
of  the  bushes  from  which  flourish  in  full  vigor  now.  Each  day's  labor 
was  noted  down — how  he  went  in  quest  of  young  elms,  ash  trees, 
white  thorn  crab-apples,  mulberries,  willows  and  lilacs,  laid  out 
winding  walks  and  planted  trees  and  shrubs  along  them  ;  how  he 
sowed  acorns  and  buckeye  nuts  brought  from  the  Monongahela, 
opened  vistas  through  the  i)ine  grove,  and  twined  around  his  columns 
.scarlet  honeysuckles,  to  blossom  all  the  summer.  His  careworn  spirit 
freshened  up  in  these  employments.  With  him  Mount  \'ernon  was  a 
perjjetual  idyl.  The  transient  glow  of  poetical  feeling  which  once 
visited  his  bosom  when  in  boyhood  he  rhymed  beneath  its  groves 
seemed  about  to  return  once  more,  and  we  ]:)lease  ourselves  with 
noting  among  the  trees  set  out  by  him  a  grouj)  of  young  horse  chest- 
nuts from  Westmoreland,  the  home  of  his  childhood,  sent  to  him  l)y 
the  son  of  his  "Lowland  Beauty." 

Enlargement  of  the  Mansion. 

Washington  made  no  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  mansion  (as 
left  by  his  brother)  until  1785,  when  he  determined  to  enlarge  it,  in 
order  to  provide  for  the  increasing  number  of  his  guests.  He  obtained 
from  England  workmen  and  materials,  and  by  the  close  of  this  year 
had  completed  his  improvement,  in  which  he  was  his  own  architect, 
drawing  everv  plan  and  specification  with  his  own  hand.  The  interior 
of  the  old  house  remained  unchanged ;  but  wings  were  added  and  the  ex- 
terior remodelled.  Its  appearance  to-day  is  as  when  completed  then. 
It  was  of  the  most  substantial  frame-work  (cut  in  imitation  of  stone), 
two  stories  and  attic  in  height,  ninety-six  feet  in  length  by  thirty  in 
depth,  with  a  piazza  fifteen  feet  in  depth  extending  along  the  entire 
eastern  or  river  front,  supported  by  square  columns  twenty-five  feet  in 
height,  over  this  a  light  balustrade,  and  in  the  centre  of  the  roof  an 
observatory  and  spire.  Inhere  were  seven  high  dormer  windows — 
three  on  the  eastern  side,  one  on  each  end,  and  two  on  the  western 
or  lawn  side.  The  ground  floor  contained  six  rooms  (there  were 
originally  but  four),  with  the  old  spacious  hall  in  the  centre  of  the 
building,  extending  through  it  from  east  to  west,  and  the  stairway. 
On  tlie  south  side  of  the  hall  was  the  parlor,  library,  and  breakfast- 
room,  from  which  last  a  narrow  staircase  ascended  to  the  private  study 
on  the  second  floor ;  on  the  north  side  a  music-room,  parlor,  and 
dancing-room,  in  which  when  there  was  much  company  the  guests 
sometimes  entertained  at  table.  The  principal  feature  of  this  room 
was  the  large  mantelpiece,  wrought  in  Italy,  of  statuary  and  Sienite 

5 


66  SOME   OLD   HISTOKIC  LANDMARKS 

marbles,  extiuisitely  carved  in  every  part,  bearing  in  relief  scenes  in 
agricultural  life.  The  interiors  of  the  new  rooms  were  finished  to 
correspond  with  the  old  ones.  At  the  same  time  were  built,  near  the 
mansion,  on  either  side,  a  substantial  kitchen  and  laundry,  connected 
with  it  by  colonnades.  The.se,  with  other  outlying  buildings  there 
erected,  all  remain,  with  the  exception  of  an  extensive  con.servatory. 
Washington,  thus  occupied  with  the  development  of  his  estate,  was 
meanwhile  unconsciously  exercising  a  powerful  influence  on  national 
affairs.  He  was  obliged  to  maintain  an  extensive  correspondence, 
and  the  opinions  and  counsels  given  in  his  letters  were  widely  effective. 
No  longer  the  soldier,  he  was  now  becoming  the  statesman. 

The  First  President. 

The  electors  chosen  under  the  new  Constitution  were  unanimous  in 
calling. Washington  to  the  presidential  chair.  On  the  i6th  of  April, 
1789,  he  again  bade  adieu  to  Mount  Vernon,  and  .set  out  for  the  seat 
of  government.  His  progress  to  New  York  was  a  continuous  ovation. 
There  on  April  30  the  first  President  of  the  United  States  was  inau- 
gurated. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  dwell  upon  the  incidents  of  the  following 
eight  years,  when  Washington  so  worthily  filled  the  loftiest  i)Osition 
within  the  gift  of  any  people.  During  this  period,  crowded  with 
events  most  important  in  the  formative  history  of  the  republic,  its 
chief  magistrate — it  may  surprise  those  unfamiliar  with  the  publica- 
tions of  the  time — was  pursued  in  his  official  acts,  and  even  private 
life,  by  a  bitter  partisan  malignity,  the  like  of  which  is  almost  un- 
known in  our  later  day.  The  pressure  of  public  duties  admitted  but 
few  opportunities  to  visit  his  home.  During  one  of  these  visits  there, 
in  the  summer  of  1796,  he  wrote  his  farewell  address,  which  a  great 
British  historian  has  declared  to  be  "  une<iualled  by  any  composition 
of  uninspired  wisdom."  He  was  now  looking  forward  with  unfeigned 
longing  to  his  retirement.  His  term  of  office  expired  March  4,  1797, 
when  Mr.  Adams,  in  his  inaugural  address,  spoke  of  his  predecessor 
as  one  "  who,  by  a  long  course,  of  great  actions,  regulated  by  pru- 
dence, justice,  temperance,  and  fortitude,  had  merited  the  gratitude  of 
his  fellow-citizens,  commanded  the  highest  praises  of  foreign  nations, 
and  secured  immortal  glory  with  posterity." 

The  Haven  of  Rest. 

He  was  now  at  Mount  Vernon  again,  to  the  repose  of  which  he  had 
so  often  turned  a  wistful  eye  throughout  his  agitated  and  anxious  life. 
The  opening  spring  caused  the  rural  beauties  of  tiie  place  to  exert  for 
him  all  their  sweetening  influences.  His  mansion  refpiired  repair,  and 
he  wrote  :  '•  I  am  already  surrounded  by  joiners,  masons,  and  painters, 
and  such  is  my  anxiety  to  be  out  of  their  hands  that  I  have  scarcely  a 
room  to  put  a  friend  into,  or  to  sit  in  myself,  without  the  music  of 
hammers  and  the  odoriferous  .scent  of  paint."  To  another  friend: 
"  Mv  hours  glide  smoothly  on.  The  repair  of  my  buildings  and  cul- 
tivation of  my  farms  will  occupy  the  few  years  1   may  be  a  sojourner 


OF   VIRGIXIA   AND  MARYLAND.  67 

here."  And  so  it  was.  Surrounded  by  an  affectionate  family, 
entertaining  troops  of  friends,  engaged  in  the  most  fascinating  of  all 
pursuits,  truly  his  "lines  were  cast  in  .i)lea.sant  places."  To  this 
tran(|uil  life  there  was  hut  one  transient  interruption,  when,  in  view  of 
the  impending  war  with  France,  he  was  calleil  (Jidy  3,  179'S)  yet 
again  into  the  public  service  as  Commander-in-Chief  of  all  the  Ameri- 
can armies,  and  immediately  repaired  to  Philadelphia,  where,  in  the 
work  of  organization,  he  remained  until  the  danger  was  ha[jpily  averted, 
when  he  returned  to  Mount  \'ernon,  never  more  to  leave  it. 

IMPROVEMENT  AND  PROTECTION  OF  THE 
MOUNT  VERNON  ESTATE. 

ELSEWHERE  in  this  "Hand-Book"  allusion  has  been  made  to  the 
changes  which  have  been  wrought  on  the  Mount  Vernon  Estate 
since  the  passing  away  of  its  distinguished  ])ro])rietor  at  the  close  of 
the  last  century.  First,  of  its  rapid  decadence,  through  neglect  and 
improvident  culture,  from  well  ordered  conditions  of  agriculture  to 
those  of  unthrift  and  desolation,  and  finally,  after  the  lapse  of  half  a 
century,  of  the  coming  of  new  hands  from  places  remote,  to  begin  the 
work  of  transforming  the  wasted  areas  to  fields  of  waving  grain  and 
clover,  and  to  orchards  of  abundant  fruitage.  The  work  of  restora- 
tion has  been  increasing  from  year  to  year  since  1852,  and,  now  that 
the  electric  railway  has  made  the  entire  domain  suburlmn  to  Alexan- 
dria and  Washington,  the  prospect  of  stjll  greater  imi)rovements  be- 
comes brighter  and  more  encouraging.  With  the  cheap  and  rapid 
transit  which  will  be  afforded  by  this  road  to  and  from  these  cities 
there  will  doubtless  be  large  accessions  of  new  settlers  from  localities 
far  le.ss  favored,  to  occujiy  the  divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the  many 
large  farms  of  the  estate. 

Just  after  the  Mexican  war,  when  the  general  government  was  cast- 
ing about  to  find  a  suitable  location  for  the  National  Military  Asylum, 
or  Soldiers'  Home,  as  it  is  now  called,  the  Hon.  Lewis  McKensie  and 
Other  prominent  citizens  of  Alexandria  proposed  and  strenuously  urged 
ujjon  the  authorities  the  acquirement^  by  purchase  of  a  thousand  acres 
of  the  estate  for  that  purpose.  No  more  fitting  choice  could  have 
been  made  for  a  soldier's  refuge,  and  the  property  could  have  been 
secured  at  that  time  for  less  than  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

In  1859,  the  "Ladies'  Association,"  with  their  patriotic  contribu- 
tions of  two  hundred  thou.sand  dollars,  purchased  the  "  Mansion"  and 
two  hundred  acres,  and  began  the  work  of  restoring  and  preserving  the 
buildings  and  the  immediate  grounds.  How  well  they  have  succeeded 
in  their  efforts,  the  ijresent  attractive  appearance  of  the  premises  and 
the  orderly  arrangement  of  ])olicing  and  other  daily  duties  incident 
to  thfe  reception  of  visitors  most  satisfactorily  attest.  But  there  is  a 
rapidly  increasing  conviction,  nevertheless,  among  all  such  as  rever- 
ence the  name  and  goodly  feme  of  Washington  all  over  our  land,  that 
the  time  has  come  for  the  control  of  the  "  Home  and  Tomb"  to  pass 
into  the  hands  of  the  general  government,  that  our  people  may  be  re- 
lieved from  the  odium  of  laying  all  i)ilgrims  to  this  much  frequented 


68  SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 

shrine  under  capitation  tribute  before  allowing  them  permission  to 
enter  the  gates  of  its  enclosures.  As  Washington  was  above  and  be- 
yond all  merely  mercenary  motives,  and  despised  undignified  schem- 
ings,  so  the  place  which  was  honored  by  his  living  presence  and 
which  holds  his  ashes  ought  to  be  accessible  without  money  or  price. 
In  Europe  every  mausoleum  of  note  is  freely  opened  to  visitors  with- 
out charge,  and  not  only  every  mausoleum  but  every  depository  of 
arts  and  literature  ;  and  rei)r()achful  allusions  are  not  unfrequently 
heard  by  American  tourists  abroad  from  foreigners  who  have  been  re- 
quired to  pay  a  fee  at  the  entrance  to  the  mausoleum  of  George  Wash- 
ington. 

May  we  not  hope  that  among  the  many  unreasonable  customs  of  our 
country  which  are  doomed  to  pass  away  before  the  march  of  progress, 
this  discreditable  custom  of  levying  tribute  at  the  gates  of  Mount  Vernon 
may  be  among  the  first  to  be  discontinued.  To  the  objection  so  often 
urged  by  those  who  look  with  disfavor  upon  the  change  proposed,  that 
the  place  under  government  control  would  not  be  so  well  cared  for  and 
guarded  from  depredations  as  under  the  present  provident  management 
of  the  ladies,  it  seems  only  necessary  to  refer  to  the  result  through 
many  years  of  that  control  of  the  Smithsonian  and  national  museums, 
the  agricultural  grounds,  and  public  parks,  the  Congressional  library 
and  other  public  charges  now  under  exclusive  government  care.  A 
tithe  of  the  yearly  appropriations  wasted  on  worthless  fortifications 
and  warships  would  amply  suffice  to  keep  up  all  needed  repairs  at  Mt. 
Vernon,  and  a  small  detail  of  soldiers  from  the  army  would  supply  the 
required  work  of  policing  and  protect  all  from  the  hands  of  the^poiler. 

THE    "PRINCETON"    CATASTROPHE;     BURSTING 
OF    THE    "PEACEMAKER." 

ON  the  28th  of  February,  1844,  a  large  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  Washington  city,  including  President  Tyler  and  the 
members  of  his  Cabinet  with  their  families,  were  invited  by  Commo- 
dore Stockton,  of  the  navy,  to  pass  the  day  on  board  the  frigate 
"  Princeton,"  lying  at  anchor  off  the  city  of  Alexandria.  ■  The  day 
was  fine  and  the  company  numerous  and  brilliant,  not  fewer  than  four 
hundred  in  numl)er,  of  whom  the  majority  were  ladies.  After  the 
arrival  of  the  guests,  the  "  Princeton"  got  under  way  and  proceeded 
down  the  river  to  a  short  distance  below  Fort  Washington.  During 
the  passage  down,  the  largest  gun  of  the  vessel,  the  "  Peacemaker," 
carrying  a  ball  of  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds,  was  fired 
several  times  to  test  its  strength  and  capacity.  The  gun  had  been 
constructed  from  a  model  of,  and  under  the  immediate  direction  of,  the 
commodore,  and  Mr.  Tyler  had  manifested  a  great  interest  in  its 
success.  At  two  p.m.  the  ladies  of  the  ]jarty  were  invited  to  a  suni])- 
tuous  repast  in  the  cabin.  The  gentlemen  succeeded  them  at  table, 
and  some  of  them  had  got  through  and  left  it.  The  ship  was  on  her 
return  to  her  anchorage,  and  when  opposite  to  Broad  Bay,  the  com- 
modore proposed,  for  the  special  gratification  of  the  President  and  his 
Cabinet,  to  fire  the  gun  again,  a  salute,  as  he  said,  in  honor  of  tlie  "  great 


OF   VIRGINIA  AXD  MARYLAND.  69 

peacemaker"  of  his  country — George  Washington.  Accordingly,  all 
the  members  of  the  Cabinet  started  to  go  up-stairs,  the  President  with 
them,  but  at  that  instant  they  were  called  back  to  hear  a  toast  proposed 
by  Miss  \\'icklire.  It  was  this:  "The  flag  of  the  United  States,  the 
only  thing  American  that  will  bear  a  stripe."  'i'his  was  received 
with  great  enthusiasm.  'Ihe  President  in  response  then  gave  as  a 
toast,  "  the  three  great  guns, — the  "  Princeton,"  her  comiiiander,  and 
his  "Peacemaker."  This  was  loudly  applauded  by  the  ladies,  and 
then  the  members  of  the  Cabinet  started  to  go  upstairs  again.  At 
this  moment,  Mr.  Upshur,  of  Virginia,  Secretary  of  State,  had  his 
hand  on  the  President's  arm,  and  said  to  him,  "  Come,  Mr.  Tyler, 
let's  go  up  and  see  the  gun  fired."  Just  then  Colonel  Dade  asked 
Mr.  Waller,  the  President's  son-in-law%  to  sing  an  old  song  about  1776. 
The  President  replied,  "  No,  by  George,  Upshur,  I  mast  stay  and  hear 
that  song  ;  it's  an  old  favorite  of  mine.  Vou  go  up,  and  I'll  join 
you  directly."  Accordingly,  away  went  Upshur,  Gilmer,  and  the 
others  to  see  the  gun  fired.  Messrs.  Benton,  Phelps,  Hannegan, 
Jarnegan,  ^'irgil  Maxey,  Commodore  Kennon,  Colonel  Gardiner, 
and  many  others  following.  The  President  remained  below  listening 
to  the  singing,  and  just  as  Mr.  Waller  came  to  the  name,  of  Washing- 
ton off  went  the  gun.  "There,"  said  the  master  of  ceremonies, 
'•  that's  in  honor  of  the  name,  and  now  for  three  cheers."  And  just 
as  they  were  about  to  give  them,  a  boatswain's  mate  rushed  into  the 
cabin  begrimed  with  powder  and  said  that  the  "big  gun"  had  ex- 
ploded and  killed  many  of  those  on  deck.  On  this  announcement 
the  shrieks  and  agonizing  cries  of  the  women  were  heart-rending, — all 
calling  for  their  husbands,  fathers,  brothers,  and  so  on,  rushing  wildly 
into  their  arms  and  fainting  with  excess  of  feeling.  When  the  gun 
was  fired  the  whole  ship  shook,  and  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  envel- 
oped the  entire  group  on  the  forecastle,  but  when  this  blew  away  an 
awful  scene  presented  itself  to  the  spectator. 

The  lower  part  of  the  gun,  from  the  trunnions  to  the  breech,  was 
blown  off,  and  one-half  section  of  it  was  lying  on  Mr.  Upshur.  It 
took  two  sailors  to  remove  it.  Mr.  Upshur  was  badly  cut  over  the 
eye  and  on  his  legs;  his  clothes  were  literally  torn  from  his  body.  He 
exjnred  in  about  three  minutes.  Governor  Gilmer,  of  Virginia,  was 
found  to  be  equally  badly  injured.  He  had  evidently  been  struck  by 
the  section  of  the  gun  before  it  had  reached  Mr.  Upshur.  Mr.  Sykes, 
member  of  Congress  from  New  Jersey,  endeavored  to  raise  him  from 
the  floor,  but  was  unable.  A  mattress  was  brought  for  him,  but  l-ic 
soon  expired.  Mr.  Maxey,  of  Maryland,  had  his  arms  and  one  of  his 
legs  cut  off,  the  pieces  of  flesh  hanging  to  his  mutilated  limbs,  cold 
-  and  bloodle.ss,  in  a  manner  truly  frightful.  He  died  instantly.  Mr. 
Gardiner,  ex-member  of  New  York,  and  Commodore  Kennon,  lingered 
about  half  an  hour,  unconscious,  and  expired  without  a  groan.  The 
flags  of  the  Union  were  placed  over  the  dead  bodies  as  their  winding 
sheets.  Behind  the  gun,  the  scene,  though  at  first  equally  distressing, 
was  less  alarming.  Commodore  Stockton,  who  was  knocked  down, 
almost  instantly  rose  to  his  feet  and  jumped  on  to  the  wooden  carriage 
to  survev  the  effects  of  the  calamitv.      All    the  hair  of  his  head   and 


70 


SOME    OLD  HISTORIC  LANDMARKS 


face  was  burnt  off.  Judge  Pheli)s,  of  Vermont,  had  his  hat  blown  off. 
Nine  seamen  were  seriously  wounded  and  Colonel  Benton  and  many 
others  were  stunned  by  the  explosion.  Such  was  the  force  of  it  that 
the  starboard  and  larboard  bulwarks  of  the  shij)  were  shattered  and  the 
gun  blown  into  many  pieces. 

Judge  Wilkins  had  taken  his  stand  1)\  the  side  of  Governor  Gilmer, 
but  some  remarks  falling  from  the  lips  of  the  latter,  and  perceiving 
that  the  gun  was  about  to  be  fired  he  exclaimed,  "Though  Secretary 
of  War,  I  don't  like  this  firing,  and  believe  that  I  shall  run,"  so  saying 
he  retreated,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and  escaped  injury.  The 
most  heart-rending  scene,  however,  was  that  which  followed.  The 
two  daughters  of  Mr.  Gardiner,  of  New  York,  were  both  on  board  and 
lamenting  the  death  of  their  father,  while  Mrs.  Gihner,  from  whom 
they  in  vain  attempted  to  keep  the  dreadful  news  of  the  death  of  her 
husband,  presented  truly  a  spectacle  fit  to  be  depicted  by  a  tragedian. 
There  she  sat  on  deck,  with  hair  dishevelled,  i)ale  as  death,  struggling 
with  her  feelings,  and  with  the  dignity  of  a  woman,  her  lii)s  quivering, 
her  eyes  fixed  and  upturned  without  a  tear,  solilocjuising,  "  Oh,  certainly 
not !  Mr.  Gilmer  cannot  be  dead  !  Who  would'  dare  to  injure  him? 
Yes,  O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me  !  O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  him  !" 
And  then,  still  more  apparently  calm  and  seeming  to  be  collected, 
with  the  furies  tearing  her  heart  within,  "I  beseech  you,  gentlemen, 
to  tell  me  where  my  husband  is  !  Oh  !  impossible,  impossible  !  and 
he,  can  he,  can  he  be  dead?  Impossible."  Here  Mr.  Senator  Rives, 
of  Virginia,  drew  near.  "  Come  near,  Mr.  Rives,"  she  said  in  a  soft 
whisper,  which  resembled  Ophelia's  madness,  "tell  me  where  my 
husband  is — tell  me  if  he  is  dead.  Now  certainly,  Mr.  Rives,  this  is 
impossible."  Mr.  Rives  stood  speechless,  the  tears  trickling  down 
his  cheeks.  "I  tell  you,  Mr.  Rives,  it  is  impossible,"  she  almost 
screeched;  and  then  again  moderating  her  voice,  "Now  do  tell  his 
wife  if  her  husband  lives!"  Here  several  ladies  exclaimed,  "God 
grant  that  she  may  be  able  to  cry  ;  it  would  relieve  her" — "  if  not,  she 
must  die  of  a  broken  heart." 

A  daughter  of  Mr.  Gardiner,  one  of  the  victims  of  the  ill-fated 
party,  and  to  whom  the  President  was  paying  attention,  and  who  in 
the  following  June  became  his  wife,  gave  the  following  relation  a  few 
years  ago.  "  When  we  got  down  to  the  collation  .served  in  the  cabin, 
the  President  seated  me  at  the  head  of  the  table  with  him  and  handed 
me  a  glass  of  champagne.  My  father  was  standing  just  back  of  my 
chair,  so  I  handed  the  glass  over  my  shoulder,  saying,  'Here,  pa.' 
He  did  not  take  it,  but  said,  'My  time  will  come.'  He  meant  his 
'time  to  be  served,'  but  the  words  have  always  seemed  to  me  ])ro- 
phetic.  That  moment  some  one  called  down  to  the  President  to  come 
and  see  the  last  shot  fired,  but  he  re])lied  that  he  could  not  go,  as  he 
was  better  engaged.  My  father  started  with  some  other  gentlemen 
and  left  us.  Just  then  we  heard  the  report,  and  the  smoke  began  to 
come  down  the  companion-way.  'Something  must  be  wrong,'  1 
said  to  a  bystander,  who  started  to  go  and  see.  He  got  to  the  door, 
then  turned  around  and  gave  me  such  a  look  of  horror,  that  I  never 
shall  forget  it.     That  moment  1  heard   some  one  say,  '  The  Secretary 


OF   VIRGINIA   AXn   MARYLAND.  71 

of  State  is  dead.'  I  was  frightened,  of  course,  and  tried  to  get  up 
stairs.  '  Something  dreadful  has  happened,'  I  exclaimed.  '  Let  me  go 
to  my  father!'  I  cried,  but  they  kept  me  back.  Some  one  told  me 
the  gun  had  ex])loded,  but  that  there  was  such  a  crowd  around  the 
scene  it  would  be  useless  for  me  to  try  to  get  there.  I  said  that  my 
father  was  there,  and  that  I  must  know  if  any  evil  had  befallen  him. 
Then  they  told  me  he  had  been  wounded.  That  drove  me  frantic.  I 
begged  them  to  let  me  go  and  help  him — that  he  loved  me,  and 
would  want  me  near  him.  A  lady,  seeing  my  agony,  said  to  me, 
'  My  dear  child,  you  can  do  no  good  ;  your  father  is  in  heaven.'  " 

The  bodies  of  the  victims  of  this  dire  calamity,  which  cast  a  gloom 
over  the  whole  land,  were  taken  up  to  the  Capital.  Five  hearses,  con- 
veying the  remains  of  Messrs  Upshur,  Gilmer,  Kennon,  Maxey,  and 
Gardiner,  followed  by  a  long  train  of  carriages  and  a  great  concourse 
of  citizens,  on  horseback  and  afoot,  passed  in  silence  up  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  and  proceeded  to  the  Executive  Mansion.  The  coffins  of  the 
distinguished  dead  were  taken  into  the  East  Room  and  placed  on  biers 
to  await  the  funeral  solemnities  which  occurred  on  the  Saturday 
following. 


^  t"  1* 


UNIVBRaiTY  OF  ILUNOIS-URBANA 


3  0112  04979069 


